March 16 - Let all who thirst come unto me

A little bit of hope and encouragement for us all, with a newly recorded fr. André Gouzes song based on yesterday's Gospel of the Samaritan woman (John 4:1 - 42). As Lent continues, and global concern about the coronavirus rises, let us remain united in prayer!

 
 

As the Master of our Order, fr. Gerard Timoner, shared at the beginning of his letter on the pandemic:

 
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom should I fear?
The Lord is my life’s refuge; of whom should I be afraid?
For God will hide me in his shelter in time of trouble,
He will conceal me in the cover of his tent.
— Psalm 27:1,5
 
March 7 - "And He was transfigured before them..."

Every year, we are asked, “What do you do for Lent in the monastery?” We shared in-depth about this last year, but think that this Sunday’s Gospel (Matthew 5:43 - 48) puts an extra perspective on it. Last week, Jesus was being led out into the wilderness by the Spirit to fast, pray and be tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:1 - 11). This week, He leads three of His disciples on a hike up a mountain, and reveals His glory to them, as the Father says “This is my beloved Son…listen to Him.” Why, after being encouraged to pray, fast and struggle, are we so quickly shown Christ’s radiant beauty, and reminded so strongly of the love of our Father? Isn’t that a bit strange?

 
Icon written by a Dominican nun from Drogheda, Ireland.

Icon written by a Dominican nun from Drogheda, Ireland.

 

Well, yes and no. Lent is a season of prayer, fasting and almsgiving in preparation for the Paschal Triduum, which celebrates Jesus’s victory over sin and death. As a monastic community, Lent is a time to live even more simply, and return to the fundamentals of our life—love, prayer, silence, common life, study, manual work. However, as Orthodox saint Seraphim of Sarov said, “The true aim of our Christian life consists of the acquisition of the Holy Spirit of God. As for fasts, and vigils, and prayer, and almsgiving, and every good deed done for Christ's sake, they are the only means of acquiring the Holy Spirit of God."  As nuns, we don’t have Twitter or TV shows to give up; but it is possible to get numbed to holy things. It is possible that the horarium and words of prayer become the wallpaper of routine. It is possible, even surrounded by the beauty of God expressed in nature, liturgy, community, to forget that we are called to a peace that this world cannot give (Jn 14:27).

So, Lent is a time to return to the love of our God, and ask Him to help us remove whatever has dimmed the bright light and joy of our salvation that He so wants to share with us. Now that we’ve been “led into the wilderness,” so to speak, the Gospel of the Transfiguration reminds us why we are here—so that “we, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect; this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit” (2 Cor 3:18).

 
 

To put that another way: before the ground froze last fall, one of our younger sisters planted 105 tulip bulbs in the garden and covered them with straw. On Ash Wednesday, she scraped back the covering on a row only to find the first buds poking up. It is still partially winter outside; in fact, today it is snowing. But even underneath the snow and straw, the flowers grew towards the light. If they’re well tended, and the deer don’t interfere, we should have tulips for the Easter Vigil. In much the same way, in Lent God helps us scrape back the covering on His life in our soul, so that we too may grow towards His light. It may not look like much at first; but give it forty days, and the right amount of sun, and who knows what beauty may be revealed?

May God bless your Lent in every way, that we might gaze on His glory together at Easter. Let us remain united in prayer!

February 14 - Mountains and hills, bless the Lord
 
 

The canticle of Daniel (3:57 - 88) which we sing at Lauds on Sunday mornings is a joyful exhortation to all creation to praise the Lord:

Frost and cold, bless the Lord.
Ice and snow, bless the Lord;
Night and days, bless the Lord.
Light and darkness, bless the Lord.
— Daniel 3:69-72

Since Christmas, it seems like we’ve had all of the above, and then some, to praise the Lord for! Starting with the most recent blessing, Sonia entered as a postulant just before the first Vespers of the Presentation of the Lord (February 1). In a simple ceremony in our Chapter hall, our prioress prayed for Sonia’s joy and perseverance in following God before presenting her with our Constitutions, a handmade wooden cross, and a rosary as a sign of perpetual prayer. Then, of course, hugs from the community!

 
 

This canticle is also a reminder to give thanks to God in all circumstances, which we certainly had occasion to do. The morning of February 1, we (and our neighbours in the Upper Squamish Valley) had woken up to a power outage. Traditionally, the Feast of the Presentation is also called Candlemas, as this is the day when a symbolic representation of the year’s candles are blessed before Mass. Well, without light, heat or running water, we quickly began to (silently, in our hearts) bless the little candles and oil lamps scattered around the monastery. We got our generator going with the help of a sister’s visiting family, and our resident priest went out in search of more fuel. Meanwhile, we hauled water from the tanks in the basement up to the kitchen and cells. As the day went on, we lit a fire and still had a very festive recreation to welcome Sonia. But as the outage stretched throughout Sunday and into Monday, peculiar and hilarious things began to happen. One pair of wool socks became two pairs of wool socks, became three pairs of wool socks, became finding a larger pair of sandals to accommodate such a pair of sheep feet. Toques peeked out from under veils, and the gentle rustling of parkas began to be heard in choir. Finally, on Monday morning, about half the community took their study or handiwork and sat by the fire, rotating places and trading jackets as sisters warmed up. But then, from the kitchenette, a distant noise could be heard: “Beep! Beep!” And, serenaded by Handle’s “Alleluia chorus,” on the third day the lights came on. Overall, it was an interesting adventure in emergency preparedness, and an opportunity to give thanks for lights, heating and drinking water we usually enjoy, which so many people in our world go without.

 
 

Continuing to recount backwards, in mid-January our prayer was answered and we were blessed us with a cold snap and a bumper crop of snow! There was sledding, making snowmen and at least one (very silent) post-Compline snowball fight. In the end, all this white fluff was put to good use, as our novices sculpted a snow-statue in honour of Our Lady of the Snows.

 
 

Last, but definitely not least, here are a few community moments from our celebration of Christmas and Epiphany—from harvesting and decorating our trees, to a recreation performance of “We Three Kings” by at one of our Epiphany queens and her helper.

 
 
Sr. Marie Thomas Lawrie