My Time @ Our Lady of Gesthemani Abbey

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Epistemes

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Preface, Notes and Disclaimers

*It is my intention to use this thread in order to non-chronologically discuss my recent retreat/vacation (which ran from May 2 - May 10, 2009) both in Kentucky (as I travelled from Richmond to Gesthemani Abbey to Louisville) and the many blessings and graces which the Lord bestowed upon me. I am doing this “blog-style” not only because I believe my thoughts, questions, and concerns will get more immediate exposure this way, but I hope that something here may resonate enough with someone else that it offers some sense of clarity. Unfortunately, due to the fact that I’m not a professional writer nor do I use SpellCheck, my posts may frequently contain types, bad grammar, incomplete thoughts, sentence fragments, and a whole host of poor writing qualities. With that in mind, please feel free to comment at any point. I hope that I can keep this running for as long as possible, or, at least, until the memories run dry.

Peace,
Epistemes*
 
Thursday, May 7, 2009

Today, as Brother Luke, the Vocations Director of the Trappists at Our Lady of Gesthemani, led me through the dark, empty monastery library (perhaps the very library that Fr. Louis Merton once carried out his initial research for his study of St. Lutgarde of Aywieres or his excellent history of the Trappist Order up through 1949 entitled The Waters of Siloe – of which Brother Luke says, “It’s excellent historical piece, but not reflective of the Order since Vatican II”) he pointed out a number of current Catholic periodicals gracing the tables, conservative and liberal opinion alike, Reporter and Register alike, all seemingly untouched – at least, not touched by the whole community – except for a few creases and wrinkles which could have very well been caused by the postman and not any particular brother. “And you can see,” he says, motioning towards to periodicals, “that we keep a wide variety of Catholic newspapers and magazines on hand……”

A pause.

“….though I don’t see the time….”

Yes, I can imagine – what, with choir seven times daily, Mass, breakfast, lunch, dinner, in addition to making fudge, cheese, and fruitcake, what brother would have time to sit, relax, and flip through the paper like a layman at his or her breakfast table, cup of coffee to the side, waffles in the iron.

“….or the use.”

‘What does he mean?,’ I wonder. Brother Luke is a very literal brother, but also very knowledgeable, and immensely aware of the reality of God so much so that it drips from the corners of his mouth at times.

It’s such a radical concept that I’m instantly taken aback by it. ‘No use for the news,’ I wonder. It seems almost unheard of. Without the media, aren’t I disconnected from the world? How will I know when the next global disaster occurs and how directly my family and I will be affected? How will I be able to engage in conversation with strangers unless I have access to current events – “So, you’d hear about…”? If I don’t keep informed, how will I know which politicians to secretly despise for their pro-choice, pro-abortion platforms? How will I know at which university I must raise my own just ire against for careless decisions? How will I know….? How will I know?

Sunday, May 10, 2009

It’s been a week since I last heard any news whatsoever. I don’t know how many people are infected with H1N1, how many natural disasters have been caused, what politicians have said and what they haven’t said. The world hasn’t changed much since the time of Christ. Plagues, unwanted babies, political treachery and corruptness, life of the fallen species, as it were. Prayer is what is needed – not more editorials, not more online petitions, not more anxiety or “just anger.” Let God handle it, creature, or do you not trust his judgment?

What a radical concept.
 
Thank you very much for sharing these and I hope that you continue to bring us more. I live on the other side of the country from the Lousiville airport and one day last spring I finally managed to pencil together a hopscotch of available flights to get me to and from there.

I decided to sleep on my decision before taking action. When I awoke the next morning all of those airlanes had gone out of business.

Uh, so I’m looking close to home as time become available. I still want to eventually make the visit to Gethsemani so these pieces of yours are, again, very much appreciated.
 
Hi Epistemes,

Thanks for sharing - your opening story was very thoughtful and engaging. I’d like to read more, please!
 
Terce. The Third Hour. Wednesday, 7:45 AM.

Alleluia! Praise the LORD from the heavens, praise him in the heights.
Alleluia! Sing a new song to Yahweh: his praise in the assembly of the faithful!
Alleluia! Praise God in his holy place, praise him in the heavenly vault of his power

The brothers praise the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit both now and forever; the God who is, who was and is to come, at the end of the ages. The bell tolls and the abbey church is swathed in darkness. The only light from the candle that reminds me that Christ is indeed present in the Tabernacle – and that which peeks underneath the doors, a reminder of the world outside, a reminder of labor, a reminder of pain, a reminder of defeat.

The brothers have filed out and left for their duties. The silence is overwhelming. The stillness is unprecedented. And yet there is so much noise – noise inside my heart, my head, my being.

Who am I? I thought that I answered this question yesterday sitting in the cemetery, kneeling at the feet of Our Lady, asking the Trappist saints to pray for us, listening to the gentle breezes and swallows, wrens, bluebirds. Why, then, does my spirit groan? Why does my body shudder? Why so downcast, why all these sighs?

Elton, whom I met the evening before, who knows my intentions, my desires – for they resemble his own in several aspects – sits down beside me, he can see that I am distraught, in pain: “Tell in me in under a minute, what are you thinking?”

–I can’t. It would take longer than a minute. Nothing, and yet everything.

“Okay,” he says and leaves me be. He knows when a man needs his solitude, when he needs to be alone with the living God who continues to speak, to act, to breathe.

The day before, I had weeped in my room before the crucifix, asking “Why? Why? Why?” It was apparent that the vessel was not yet empty; the heart not yet open. And so, sitting there in the silence, the stillness, the darkness of myself and the abbey church in its simplicity, its reverence, its Presence, I began to sob, to sob, to sob, to fall apart piece by piece, overwhelmed by the beauty, overwhelmed by my own powerlessness, overwhelmed by the glory of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

That evening when Mark sobbed during Compline during the chanting of the Salve Regina, I knew – I understood:

What are you now, heart of stone, but a heart of flesh?
 
Beautiful!

i only find peace in prayer. The world is so loud, like a screaming, unhappy spoiled child.

i see the people with the most worldly “acclaim, wealth and material success”, and they all seem unhappy, stressed and often hateful and angry?

Let us pray that we can be an example of the joy and love of Jesus Christ;

**"And he said to all, ‘If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.’ " (Lk 9:23) **

Turn off the TV and pray!

Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, Ora Pro Nobis Peccatoribus!

mark
 
I want to continue writing in my newly opened thread and reach the “climax,” but I am much too distraught right now, frightened by the reality that now faces me, aware that I need faith more than ever. The devil is hard on my trail and will do anything to see me fail. What if God wants me to fail? What if God is tugging so hard on my robes, trying to get me to turn around, that I mistake the Almighty for the devil because I’m being so irrational, insensible, and selfish about the whole thing, the whole “climax”? While at Gesthemani, I could have sworn that the Angel Gabriel descended and told me, “You will be the Mother of God,” but now I am no longer sure - no longer sure if I want such responsibility, if I can handle such responsibility, if I can make it two years without causing so much undeserved stress for my loved ones.

Mother of God, at Gesthemani, I knelt at your feet and prayed, “Be a mother to me, and I will be a son.” Was I deluding myself in thinking that you heard me? that you guided me to the Vocation Directors office? that you guided me to Fr Damien’s office where we discussed my need to live my own life, not the life which my parents want for me? Was I delusional to think that you guided me to the Cathedral of the Assumption in Louisville on Friday evening rather than to a downtown bar? Oh Mama, I want to believe that you are my strongest, most faithful advocate, but only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for or prove the existence of realities that are unseen, and right now, I am frightened and unsure about taking that next step of faith, so pray for me! Pray for me, Oasis of Peace, that I may remain confident in the Lord’s plans for my life, my vocation and all lives!
 
Thank you for sharing. I’ve been vaguely considering possibly being a monk at Gethsemani. I’d like to go on a retreat sometime, do you know if they allow people under 18 to go on retreats there?
 
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