Epiphany celebrates the pilgrimage of hope made by wise men from the East. They see a light, a sign that something is coming, and they travel to meet it. They follow in search of a promised child who is to be ruler and shepherd, someone who will provide a way forward, a future for humanity. Their actions contrast with those of Herod, who tries to kill the future because it threatens him. The magi remind us of the pilgrimage of the heart we are all called to make, without going away from our place, to enter into God’s future.
The wise ones come bearing gifts. They carry with them their treasures, what they have discovered, fashioned, refined, and perfected, that are precious to them. They come to offer gifts, to hand over, hand on, and entrust to the child what will help in his mission. These magi show us the importance of opening the treasury of the heart to offer what is precious to those who need it.
These children of wisdom rejoice when they find the star and what it signifies. In fact, they are overwhelmed with joy. Unlike Herod, they have no fear of the unknown future they are pursuing. This indicates their wisdom and their purity of heart. Herod is frightened, troubled, agitated, and all Jerusalem with him. Zechariah feels the same way when the angel appears to him in the temple, indeed he is overwhelmed with fear. The word in Greek is the same: ἐταράχθη. Interestingly, the same word stem with a more intensive prefix is used of Mary when she is greeted by the angel: διεταράχθη – she is perplexed, deeply troubled, wholly disturbed. Fear is to be expected, but it can lead to different responses. Herod’s fear leads to murderous rage. Zechariah’s fear leads to weakness and doubt. Mary’s fear leads her to ponder what she had heard, ask questions, consider what is said to her, and when she gives her answer, she is overwhelmed with joy.
Lessons from our history
We have been reading from our book, A House Built on Yes, this week, and I am struck by the parallels between what our Irish and American foundresses faced and what we are facing as a community today. On June 13, 1955, the six remaining Irish foundresses departed for Ireland, leaving the fledgling community under the care of its young abbess:
“With the departure of the Irish sisters, Wrentham lost all its officials in a single day. Shortly after they left, M. Angela brought the remaining community to the chapter room and announced the names of the new officials. When she finished she told the sisters: “Don’t come and tell me you can’t do it. I know you can’t. Learn.” This period could not have been easy for the sisters at Wrentham as they had to learn the management of many different areas and take on great responsibilities very early in their monastic life. Sr. Cecile, the new prioress, had made her final vows less than three months earlier and was at the same time named mistress of lay novices. Sr. Grace, the new mistress of choir novices, had made final profession less than a year and a half before.
“A month later, though, when Dom Edmund conducted the regular Visitation, he commented that the “family spirit” at Wrentham remained strong. He had thought that the departure of the sisters might destroy that, but instead the struggle it brought seemed to bring the sisters closer together and closer to their abbess. As with so many of the difficulties that the community had already faced, the sisters approached this period of challenge and transition with great faith and trust in God and the work that he was doing in and through them. This too is a great testament to the gift that the Irish sisters had given to the sisters at Wrentham.” (A House Built on Yes, p. 69)
We know the Irish sisters didn’t want to leave – they were committed to the place and to their American sisters. Neither did the American sisters want to let them go – they faced fear and a sense of inadequacy without the experience and wisdom of their monastic seniors. Mother Angela wrote that her legs trembled as she turned from sending off the Irish sisters to face the community. Like Mary they were greatly troubled, but they took to heart what was being asked of them. They took courage in God’s promises and went ahead toward God’s future, seeking their joy in him alone.
The situation of our foundresses was similar but not identical to where we find ourselves today. One major difference is the complete loss of the older and more experienced generation of sisters when the Irish foundresses left, which necessitated what may be considered a premature handover of responsibilities to a younger generation. In our case, we experience a gradual loss of the older generation as they pass on to their reward, and a gradual diminishment in the capacities of the senior sisters among us as they age, combined with a growing need to reimagine our way of life together to accommodate a multigenerational community. Another difference is that 1950’s America was characterized by post-war optimism and the baby boom, a culture more open to faith and more supportive of religious life in general, with many young people entering and communities growing rapidly. By contrast, our times are characterized by secularization, scandal, cultural decline, widespread disillusionment, a marked lessening of vocations and diminishment in religious communities.
What do we have in common with our foundresses? A situation that calls forth faith, hope, trust, abandonment, sacrifice, and love. A situation that calls for a new “yes”. What is today’s “yes?” It is the same “yes” of monastic life lived to the full, sharpened by circumstances which challenge us to reimagine not monastic life per se, but how we are to live that life as the community we are today. I do not believe it is too much to call this moment a refoundation. We are continuing to write Wrentham’s story – not a new book, but a new chapter. After 75 years we are to be reborn as a community.
Transmission of life
At our recent Visitation, our Abbot General Dom Bernardus Peeters called us to transmission of life. What is it and how do we do it?
St Benedict has a word for us. In the chapter of his Rule on community order, he is clear that he wishes the worldly precedence of chronological age or social status to be left at the door. Instead, what should determine order is: “the date of their entry [that is, the length of their monastic experience], the virtue of their lives [the depth of their internalization of the law of Christ], and the decision of the abbot [to promote some for just and non-arbitrary reasons for the service of all]” (RB 63.1). Benedict goes on to say:
“The younger monks, then, must respect their seniors, and the seniors must love their juniors.” (RB 63.10)
The phrase is adapted from St Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, where he calls husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church (Eph 5:25), wives to respect their husbands as the church does Christ (Eph 5:33). There is a complementarity between what man and woman, or what seniors and juniors in community bring to relationships, which both Paul and Benedict recognize. The authors of our Jubilee book also comment on this verse:
“In practice, neither honor nor love is unidirectional. Very often, it is the seniors who honor the thoughts and insights of the juniors and the juniors who unabashedly love their seniors.” (A House Built on Yes, p. 152)
In an excellent homily on this subject, Pastor Douglas Wilson agrees that love and respect go both ways but suggests that because of their differences in temperament and needs, in time of stress, men need to emphasize love (when they might tend toward respect) and women need to emphasize respect (then they might tend toward love). I wonder if something similar may apply to seniors and juniors in community – something to ponder. These two qualities are united in Benedict’s chapter on good zeal, a central monastic virtue which draws on a verse from Paul’s letter to the Romans:
“This then is the good zeal which monks must foster with fervent love: They should each try to be the first to respect to the other (Rom 12:10), supporting with the greatest patience one another's weaknesses of body or of behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience one to another.” (RB 72.3-6)
Mutual respect and fraternal love – in the words of Sr Miriam Pollard, speaking of her community at Santa Rita, “We value one another” – this is the foundation for the handing on of the treasure of monastic life from one generation to the next. Our own magi carry with them their treasures, what they have discovered, fashioned, refined, and perfected, that are precious to them. They offer these gifts, entrusting to the younger what will help them in their mission. Entrustment includes a willingness to share what has been learned from long experience, ongoing support and encouragement, as well as openness to the future, and a willingness to let go, to leave the gift in the hands of others.
Conquering fear
Both givers and receivers of gifts must face the struggle with fear of the unknown, a sense of inadequacy to the task before them, and discouragement in difficulties, whether this is relinquishment and surrender, or taking on the weight of responsibility. Even Mary faced this challenge. She was perplexed, deeply troubled, wholly disturbed, and this was only the beginning. Seven swords would pierce her heart. How can we conquer fear and discouragement as she did?
This past week, we chose as our Christmas movie Sound of Hope: The Story of Possum Trot, a beautiful and moving account of a church community in East Texas where 22 families welcomed 77 of the most difficult to place children in the foster care system. Helpless in the face of the long-lasting effects of trauma, hope-filled courage gave way to discouragement. At the moment when everyone appears to have hit bottom, questioning their motivations and whether God had spoken to them at all, Pastor Martin stands before his congregation and begins to speak, naming their pain and inviting them to own it and carry it together. The pastor’s wife, known in the community as First Lady, intones in a rich alto voice the words of a spiritual that is taken up by the whole congregation:
“Satan, we're gonna tear Your kingdom down (oh Lord) Satan, we're gonna tear Your kingdom down (oh Yes) You've been building your kingdom All over this land Satan, we're gonna tear Your kingdom down.”
This is the critical moment when the community becomes aware of the significance of what it is experiencing. To look at it through the lens of Ignatian discernment, we would say that:
• First, they become aware of their experience of overwhelming fear and discouragement and its spiritual ramifications. • Second, they examine this experience and understand the origin and direction of the movements within them, recognizing that the fear and discouragement is not of God, but of the enemy, who seeks to lead them astray. • Third, they take action to reject the voice of the enemy and to ask for God’s help in doing his will.
Wonderfully uplifting as that moment of communal worship was, it didn’t end there. The community is lifted out of fear and discouragement by acting on what is recognized, by giving and receiving concrete acts of support.
Today, let us ponder these things, let us become aware of what is happening within and among us, let us recognize what is of God and what is of the enemy, and let us choose to take the journey into God’s future together, supporting one another, toward the joy that is set before us.