A Facebook friend alerted me to another amazing BBC production, The Monastery, which follows the day-by-day experience of six lay men who become part of a Benedictine monastery for 40 days. None of the men are Catholic; some don’t believe in God at all. It is an experiment for all of them, an opportunity to see if monastic life can change their minds about God, about themselves, about their secular lives.
The series is up on YouTube and is available in 18 10-minute segments. It’s perfect viewing for a little meditative break from the usual computer stuff every once in a while, although I will admit that I became addicted and watched one segment after another until I was done. Took me just a couple of days. If you do decide to give it a try, see it through to the end because the transformation you witness will inspire you. The power and relevance of monastic life and Benedictine Rule in particular and prayer and silence in general is palpable in every episode.
For me, I really came away with a renewed appreciation for my own vocation and state in life, much the way I did after seeing Into Great Silence about the Carthusian monks a few years back. It made me want to pull out my books on living the Benedictine Rule at home and rethink how we can apply it to family life. When we think of monks and community, we tend to think — at least I do — of something apart from our own busy home lives. But the reality is that our families are our communities and our homes are our monasteries, and we can incorporate many good and life-affirming aspects of the Rule into our lives in ways that will strengthen our families and advance our spiritual journeys.
Above all, the emphasis of The Monastery was on silence — listening, as St. Benedict wrote, “with the ear of your heart.” Or maybe that’s just what spoke to me because I know in my heart of hearts that until I make a silent space for God in my life each day I can’t move forward. Why is it so hard to do that? Surely I can find five minutes of silence for God. I’m going to begin that challenge today and let you know how things progress. Stay tuned…
Chiara, who is off from preschool this morning, is dressed to the nines and creating her own indoor version of hopscotch, while I work nearby at the computer. Here she is in action. If you could hear the audio on this, it would be far more entertaining:
Sorry for the long absence. I’ve got a couple of good excuses. It’s been a crazy week in the Not Strictly Spiritual household. The cats, of course, have added quite a bit of drama. Last night was the first night in a week that one or both of the cats did not wander around the house crying and jumping from dresser to dresser all night. So I guess that’s progress. Actually, Fred the Cat and Mirabella the Kitten are a sweet little pair. In just a few days, they have adapted to a house filled with noise and general craziness and to each other. Now it’s not uncommon to find Fred curled up with Mirabella, giving her little licks.
And then, on top of all that, there was work craziness as well. I taught a two-hour workshop on Wednesday for the Diocese of Albany’s annual Spring Enrichment program. My topic was “The Lost Generation: Reconnecting with Adult Catholics.” This is the fourth time I’ve presented this workshop, although never for two solid hours, and each time it’s different yet fascinating. It’s certainly a subject that gets people talking. How do we reach out to adult Catholics who feel cut off from their faith? How do we coax them back into the fold in unintimidating ways that will make them feel part of a faith community? There are no easy answers, but it absolutely has to begin with community first and catechesis second.
We can’t expect people to show up for classes or meetings if they don’t feel like they are part of something, if they have no stake in their parish or church. We have to give them ownership, welcome them, talk to them, answer their questions, and drop our preconceived notions about why they may or may not attend Mass, why they send their kids to faith formation but don’t practice the faith at home. As I say in my talk, if they have any connection to the church at all — no matter how tenuous — it’s a sign that they are within our grasp and may be hungry for something more. So many people who were born and raised Catholic feel isolated and abandoned today because they never really got the basics of their faith and because they feel like strangers in their own home. It’s time to find a way to heal those divisions and reach out to those who are searching for deeper meaning in this superficial world of ours.
I could go on and on about this, but for now I’ll just say that we need to begin first with the parents of all those children in faith formation programs. We need to reach the parents through the kids, educate the parents by involving them in the faith education of their children, connect with the parents not through mandatory meetings but through acts of solidarity and subtle, even hidden, catechesis. In other words, by making our faith real to them through our words and actions.
We are all living harried and overscheduled lives. We need to show people that their spiritual community can be a refuge in the midst of the chaos. But that means that parishes need to be truly welcoming, truly community-minded, truly open to new people and new ideas. It is no longer enough to simply pump children full of random Catholic facts and then send them on their way. It is time to incorporate families into the larger family of faith, to put those random facts into context so that people understand how all the individual threads of various teachings are woven together to form the beautiful tapestry that is the Catholic faith. We cannot demand discipleship. Instead we must extend an invitation that is so meaningful and so enticing that it simply cannot be refused.
No, I didn’t give away all of my possessions. But I did adopt not one but two cats from the Mohawk and Hudson River Humane Society last night. Crazy, I know. When our dog died last November, Dennis and I swore we’d never again have a pet (we’ve had two dogs and a cat prior to our newest additions). But Olivia began a cat campaign a while back and I guess she just wore us down. Every day she would come home from school and visit the MHRHS website and read me all the vital stats about every single cat awaiting adoption. Finally, she honed in on a cat named Fred (that’s him with Chiara in the photo above). His rap sheet said he was friendly with people of all ages, mellow, a real buddy who would head butt you or even kiss you. We told her maybe after summer vacation, but we knew Fred would likely be long gone by then.
So late yesterday afternoon I took Noah and Olivia up to the Humane Society and asked to see Fred, who was curled up in bed under a shelf fast asleep. We couldn’t even see his face. If Olivia hadn’t spotted him on the website, we never would have picked him. But after about 10 seconds in the petting cage with the kids, they were begging to take Fred home. Then (because Dennis and I are insane) I asked them to put a two-month old kitten, Mirabella, in the cage with the kids. Of course, they loved her too. So I offered to get both Mirabella and Fred. Off we went with our two boxed up cats complete with microchips between their shoulder blades in case they get lost and turned in somewhere.
I wish we’d had the video camera rolling when Chiara first saw Mirabella in the bottom of her crate. She just started giggling and smiling. She could barely contain herself. Fred fell right in line chasing strings and balls, jumping on furniture and even knocking out a screen in a mad dash to chase down some critters in the backyard. Fortunately, I caught him before he could go not so gently into that good night.
Mirabella (that’s her above with Olivia) spent the entire night until 5 a.m. sleeping curled up next to Olivia. Fred, on the other hand, prowled the house, crying now and then, walking across nightstands and pillows and anything else he could find. By 5 a.m. I was downstairs with him. That’s when he jumped on top of the refrigerator and then attempted to jump on top of our cabinets. Except our cabinets don’t have any open space on top, so Fred hit the ceiling full force, leaving a swath of black fur on the ceiling and falling to the counter top below. We’ll see if this is just first-night jitters or if Fred is insane on a regular basis.
Now Fred is sleeping upstairs and Mirabella is sunbathing near an open family room window. I hope we all get some sleep tonight, but from the photo of Fred below it’s pretty obvious that he’s probably got other plans…
If you regularly berate yourself for not exercising enough, not printing and organizing your photos, not reading all the bestsellers on the New York Times book list, you need to stop what you’re doing right now and and click HERE to read a great column by Judith Warner. As I was reading it, I felt as though I was listening to the story of my life, a blow-by-blow description of my very own unrealistic expectations.
It’s only recently — as I find I simply do not have the motivation to get up for 5:45 a.m. yoga class or run through rain or sleet outside — that I’m starting to wonder if maybe I should cut myself a break. Maybe I don’t have to make homemade cupcakes for every bake sale or school function. Maybe I don’t have to fly into a panic if I gain two pounds. Maybe I don’t have to do every single thing that is suggested or that pops into my head. Maybe I’d be happier if I just slowed down and enjoyed a few quiet moments now and then and just brought a store-bought cake to the bake sale. It’s taken me almost 47 years to get to that point, but I think at some point you realize life is too important to waste so much time and effort of stuff that really doesn’t matter in the long run.
