Jubilee 2021

Do you remember the book we had in the refectory last year, a memoir written by Dom Marie-Gerard Dubois, former abbot of La Trappe, entitled Happiness in God?  His opening chapter includes an unforgettable scene in which a solemn profession and a funeral occur on the same day.  As the young monk lies face down on the floor before the altar at the moment of his consecration, the old monk lies face up on the bier just behind him, with the light of eternity playing upon his features.  This striking image came to my mind as I began to reflect on what it means for us to be celebrating a jubilee of profession.  And so, I begin by asking, what can we learn about a jubilee from looking at the two other days of special celebration that frame a monk’s life: profession and burial?

I imagine that for most of us, profession day felt like a kind of culmination of all that had preceded it: the years of one’s youth, education, exploration and the discernment of a call, the excitement of entering the monastery, and all the joys and struggles and interior dramas that make up the years of formation.  “Finally, I have made it to this moment; now I am ready to give my life.”  From the vantage point of a few years, it becomes clear that profession is only the first step, the beginning, a moment of birth.  The life I gave I had not yet lived.  The greater part of the gift lies in the future, to be offered piece by piece, day by day, moment by moment, in ways and circumstances that I cannot even imagine.

At the other end of monastic life, we have the funeral Mass and burial, in which self-dedication comes to fruition in the fullness of time.  The monk once again lies before the altar, this time with face upward, bearing the marks of long perseverance in the school of the Lord’s service.  The body laid out in cowl is worn out by much wrestling with that angel of God whose name is too wonderful.  The gift of life is completely given and received.  Only at this moment can we truly say: “She put in all she had” (Lk 21:4).  A day of inner beauty, secret joy, and indescribable peace.

This jubilee day of ours is neither a profession nor a funeral, neither a beginning nor and end and yet it somehow participates in the graces of each.  We might say that highlighting a particular period of time, whether 25, 50, 60 or 70 years, is arbitrary, and it is.  What makes this day or this year different from any other?  Our life is not a matter of watching the clock and counting the hours (though we may be forgiven for falling into that once in a while when the going gets tough).  Monastic life is just that: life.  At any given moment between profession and death it is not wholly given or wholly received, but in the process of being given and received.  Our jubilarians lie neither face down nor face up.  From our upright position, we are each invited, jubilarians and all, to look back upon the road that we have travelled, whether long or short, from the moment we gave our lives to God in pledge, through all those moments in which our self-gift has been called forth, piece by piece, as the occasion demanded.  Living through these moments of joy or pain, clarity or confusion, meaning or hopelessness cannot but be a bit of a rollercoaster.  Life often doesn’t make sense as it’s happening – would you agree?  But to look back through it all – the sputtering and yet unquenched flame of our desire, the golden thread of God’s guiding hand – is the grace of a day such as this.

We could consider this a jubilee of jubilees, since we are blessed with sisters celebrating all of the notable milestones: Sr Janice – 25 years; Sr Louise – 50 years; Sr Marcia – 60 years; Sr Denise – 70 years.  Let us pay tribute to their fidelity and God’s to this work in progress.
Sr Janice – a life given in joy to Mary, and through her to Jesus, in generous self-gift to any and all-comers, without a second thought about personal convenience.
Sr Louise – a life in which the desire of the heart has led through many a landscape and many a struggle, to the intimacy of the last place, a place shared with the incarnate Son of God, who keeps her flame burning.
Sr Marcia – a life poured out in fidelity to humble and responsible work, and in equal fidelity to the contemplative dimension of every moment: each object, each creature, each person, a way into knowledge of the love God has for us.
Sr Denise – a life spent walking, often in darkness, toward a face not seen but longed for, now dwells quietly under the gaze of One who sees her and smiles.

On this jubilee day, we do not only look back on what has been, we are also each invited to look forward to what lies ahead, to the years, whether many or few, that yet separate us from the moment when our offering will be complete.  Dom Marie-Gerard interprets the image of profession and death with these words:
“There are only two moments in life when you can meet God, the present moment and the moment of death—these are the two moments mentioned in the Hail Mary: ‘pray for us now and at the hour of our death.’” (Marie-Gerard Dubois, Happiness in God, p.9)
So, as we continue our journey of life, jubilarians and all, let us pray this prayer deeply, so that our looking back to what has been and forward to what will be, our looking down to the earth of the present moment and up to the One who calls us to himself, may be blessed with faith and hope in his mercy.