Elizabeth Kubler Ross wrote:

"People are like stained-glass windows.

They sparkle and shine when the sun is out,

but when the darkness sets in,

their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."

The New Year was welcomed with fireworks.

We were given a calendar depicting Mandalas. Mandalas are circular patterns or designs, originally depicting Hindu and Buddhist spiritual themes and now used to evoke our spiritual connection with all that is created. The circles have a centre, or a nucleus, from which the other patterns flow. I began to paint a mandala for January, intending to have the full moon as the focal point. But it looked like an empty space ..

I realised recently that whatever created thing each individual looks at and ponders about, is seen from a personal angle. Nobody has the same experience as another. What gardener truly delights in slugs and dandelions? A child or an artist would, without thinking of the ‘harm’ they could do in a garden. When we are not primarily concerned with practical matters, we may begin to see more clearly. We become receptive, and what we see becomes a unique personal gift.

On Thursday 7th January our Abbot President drove from Stratton-on-the-Fosse through the snow to Chester. He brought with him three members of the Manquehue Apostolic Movement. That night Cheshire had the lowest temperature in England. It was bitterly cold.

One can read about the Manquehue Movement on the internet. The name of the Movement comes from a mountain in Chile, meaning "Where Condors fly". These young people are like eagles with a spiritual vision. They have come on the Anglo-Saxon mission to introduce school children to the Manquehue way of ‘friendship with Christ’ through reading the Scriptures, meditation, and sharing insights. They call this approach ‘lectio divina’. Although this is not the monastic practice of lectio divina, this form of group learning is, in Chile, a means of evangelising the people. The Manquehue schools introduce even young children to this activity, so that they may find ‘friendship in Christ’ together. When they listen to the Gospel, something may resonate within them - they call this resonance an ‘echo’.

16th January

Although there are periodic signs that the snow is thawing, snow continues to cover the grass. It becomes crisp during the night, and crunchy underfoot. This crunching through snow reminds me of scuffling through autumn leaves, or running along a sandy beach still wet from the tide. One morning we awoke to rain beating down, thrumming on the Chapel roof while we prayed Morning Office.

It may well be that as the water washed the snow away it also washed some resilience in us away - or was it a facade which vanished? Reality looked rather bleak and cheerless, especially after the earthquake in Haiti. Here the drabness of winter is soothed by the quiet song of small garden birds, which the constant rush of distant cars cannot silence.

As I walked to the post-box one morning a cock was crowing. Yes, it was a cock, as there is an almost secret path running between some of the old houses,and their hidden back gardens. One has a large hen-run.

Whilst my memory nudged me back into childhood, a painful memory became a personal revelation. Poets and artists express our innate awareness that we are not fully ‘at home’; religious people are aware of spiritual exile, of being distant, separated, of needing to the find ‘the right path’, of engaging in a quest. Others experience life as constant flowing, like a river, with periodic areas of virtual stillness where water-weeds can grow.... then the onward rush to the sea or the arduous effort to swim against the current so that new life may be spawned as the fish dies. So, it’s quite alright to feel that one is not at home on earth! Nonetheless, we are created for relationships and mutual support, hence the pull in another direction. Molecules unite: you are here to serve LIFE as well as to transmit it!

Oblates and Lectio Divina

Lectio divina is not the same as ‘spiritual reading’. The Rule of St Benedict mentions it as part of the daily timetable of each monk, as important as liturgical prayer and manual work. It is done silently, at given hours, and the monk is then left to ponder and pray while he works with his hands. It is a way of life, living naturally in the company of God.

The Rule begins with the word LISTEN, and the monk is called to listen with his heart, his inner being. He is not allowed to speak unless he has permission to do so. There is no ‘group sharing’ of insights. Listening and responding to God is a personal matter.

Monks are essentially people who LISTEN and REFLECT. Listening is a discipline. Each day the Word of God comes to us in the liturgy, and through events, but is only life-giving when we receive it and ponder it in our heart.

26th January

I once thought of life as a kaleidoscope. It now resembles layer after layer of transparent glass sliding over each other. As my attention wandered from Psalm 147 during Morning Office I thought of the meditation I still have to write for January:

He (God) showers down snow white as wool

he scatters hoar-frost like ashes.

He hurls down hailstones like crumbs.

The waters are frozen at his touch:

he sends forth his word and it melts them:

at the breath of his mouth the waters flow. Psalm 147:16-18

I was also mentally in the kitchen for a while, preparing the meal, and running out to feed the gulls. Then I was aware of the needs of various people, all the while singing the final Psalm of the Office! No, awareness is not a kaleidoscope: it is level after level of tectonic plates sliding over each other ... sometimes causing chaos.