Christine Valters Paintner's Blog, page 67

Earth Monastery Virtual Book & Album Launch (Recording available)

On Earth Day 2020 Abbey of the Arts hosted an

Earth Monastery Virtual Book & Album Launch 

(recording above)

Christine Valters Paintner was joined by Abbey of the Arts Wisdom Council members Betsey Beckman, Simon de Voil, and Richard Bruxvoort Colligan for this free hour-long event.

Christine introduced and shared a meditation from the book Earth, Our Original Monastery, Simon and Richard shared songs from the album, Betsey led us in embodied prayers, and Christine read poems from her forthcoming collection, The Wisdom of Wild Grace.

Celebrate with us these important resources for our times!

ORDER the Earth, Our Original Monastery book






REGISTER for the summer online retreat






ORDER the Earth Monastery album






PRE-ORDER The Wisdom of Wild Grace: Poems






PRE-ORDER the Earth Monastery DVD












SUBSCRIBE to the Abbey of the Arts email list






Visit RICHARD's website Worldmaking






Visit SIMON's website






Visit BETSEY's website The Dancing Word






SUPPORT Richard's music on Patreon






SUPPORT Simon's music on Patreon

Monk in the World Guest Post: Pat Leyko Connelly

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Pat Leyko Connelly's reflection, "Cleaning as a Contemplative Practice."

My husband and I retired and moved from Northern New Jersey to Weston, Vermont seven years ago. I had spent most of my career in parish ministry and my husband was a teacher. After almost 40 years of visiting and making retreats at Weston, Priory, a Benedictine Monastery in Southern Vermont, we knew in our hearts that this was where we wanted to retire.

Our friendship with the Monks had grown over all those years of visiting and we felt very blessed. That blessing of friendship and sharing of spirituality led to what now seems an inevitable next step, to become Oblates, promising stability to this particular monastery and to follow the Benedictine way of life. We both have celebrated out fifth year as Oblates.

As part of the extended community at the Priory, we help with the Benedictine charism of extending hospitality… My husband is there five days a week, helping with snow removal or lawn care. He LOVES it after over 30 years in a class room, especially keeping the grounds beautiful for everyone who visits. Guests are always grateful.

My duties entail helping to keep the Priory's front parlor and rest rooms vacuumed and clean for the visiting guests. Some days I am tired and feel sorry for myself and say. "This is not a very glamorous job!" And then I recall the monks who continue to work despite old age, mobility problems and other infirmities. One of the eldest monks, who is now in his 90's still helps with chores even some gardening etc. He truly is an inspiration to me in dedication and helping in community daily life!

It is also a good way for me to work on my humility. For me doing these weekly cleaning chores reminds me of a few things that our Oblate director shared with us: He reminded us that the Latin root of the word humility, (humble) is humus…meaning the ground or the earth. Pretty lowly isn't it? Yet, the Divine Potter continues to mold us from the clay of the earth and calls us to be more. Humility doesn't call us to be less than we are but reminds us to look at how we might compare ourselves to others. Or as Ken Blanchard, author of "The One Minute Manager" puts it, "Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it's thinking of yourself less." Our Oblate director also pulls the word humor form this word humility … can I have a sense of humor while doing these simple chores? I don't always find that easy to do but I do have a good sense of humor!

Aside from having a sense of humor while I do these chores I also try to keep light hearted. Sometimes it is just a matter of humming a hymn or keeping one of the Monk's songs in mind as I work that helps me feel joyful about the gift I am giving and receiving.

My cleaning days are also a good time to practice what St. Benedict calls "esteem for silence." It is usually peaceful and quiet at the Priory. Occasionally as I work, a monk will pass by and greet me with a smile or engage in a short conversation. Then I go back to my sweeping and mopping in the beauty of silence.

These moments of silence can keep me centered and focused on a more quiet mind. I can use this time as a contemplative practice. Looking at each gesture, or motion of my cleaning, whatever chore it is it can be a form of prayer.

I was inspired to reflect on all of this after reading an article in Parabola Magazine on "The Art of Cleaning" by Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee. What drew me in to this article was where she says,"The art of cleaning is a simple spiritual activity that is often overlooked. The image of the monk sweeping the courtyard," referring to a picture in the article,  "has a deep significance, because without the practice of cleaning there can be no empty space, no space for a deep communion with the sacred. Outer and inner cleaning belong to the foundation of spiritual practice, and as the monk's broom touches the ground, it has a particular relationship to the Earth. We need to create a sacred space in order to live in relationship to the sacred within ourselves and within creation."

I personally can relate to what the writer says here. In my spiritual practice of cleaning I create that empty space for communion with the sacred!

At the end of my chores, I'm usually a bit tired, but also happy — filled with a sense of accomplishment. I have left the place pleasantly in order for the soon-to-be arriving guests. When guests see me, they often say hi thinking I'm the "cleaning lady." (I guess I really am!) There's a smile of recognition later when I see them at Liturgy, where my husband and I serve as Ministers of the cup at the Lord's table. In those times, we come together as one community. In those moments, I feel blessed to be able to sweep, mop, clean and dust, pray and serve – a simple gift of service I can give others and the Lord. I pray I do this with a peaceful and happy heart!

Pat Leyko Connelly is a Benedictine Oblate at Weston Priory in Weston, Vermont. After 28 years in Parish Ministry; Music, Religious Education and Retreat Work, she is now retired with her husband in Weston Vermont. Her new ministry and Spiritual practice has become writing Haiku prayers with photo's and poetry and reflections. This seems to have come naturally to her as she enjoys her walks in beautiful Vermont!

Pat still enjoys singing and playing guitar and hopes to return to writing music and recording again. Meanwhile, she lives a peaceful life here in Vermont. She is grateful to enjoy the simplicity of everyday life.  Pat tries to incorporate all of these gifts into her daily practice as a Benedictine Oblate.  As Fr. Richard Rohr says, "It all belongs."

Renewing a Love for Earth in Challenging Times ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dear monks, artists, and pilgrims,

This week's love note is an excerpt from a written interview that Bearings, the journal of the Collegeville Institute, posted with me this week about my newest book Earth, Our Original Monastery.

_____

In the book's introduction you identify your vocation as contemplative. How do you engage with the existential dread and anxiety of climate change?

Being a contemplative is the only thing that saves me from complete despair. Yet, even so, I still experience those feelings of dread and anxiety. There are beliefs which are the core of my contemplative practice: one, a deep trust in Love as the foundation of everything and the ground of all being; and two, the ability to actively cultivate a relationship to this abiding Love. When I feel anxious and fearful, I return to the belief that beneath everything is Love.

I fundamentally believe the contemplative practices of sitting in silence and walking in the woods enable me to deepen into that trust. Additionally, I believe in a God of complete mystery while honoring the limits of my own imagination. I trust that God is more expansive than anything I can imagine, which gives me a great deal of hope because it means my own limited imagination isn't the final word on everything. There is a much bigger imagination out there.

The thrust of the book is encouraging people to cultivate intimacy with the earth. If you are in love with this source of beauty, grace, sustenance and nourishment, you will invest in preserving it however you can.

But what do we do with the dread and the despair that we feel and how do we sustain ourselves? How do we get up in the morning and continue doing the necessary work of showing up for ourselves and for one another with compassion? For me, I spend time walking in the woods as a way to be connected to the seasonal rhythms unfolding around me, the diversity of life in all its forms, and to be present to the wisdom that comes through other ways of knowing that are more intuitive and embodied.

In a letter from the Canadian Catholic bishops regarding the environmental crisis they describe three responses: prophetic, aesthetic, and contemplative. The prophetic response speaks out about justice issues and often works on political levels. The aesthetic response is the concrete actions we might take in our everyday lives, like fasting from using plastic or trying to reduce our meat consumption. The contemplative response is really the heart of my book, that is, giving ourselves the opportunities to deepen our sense of love and kinship with Earth.

In chapter five, "Earth as the Original Icon," you discuss the necessity of lament and how it can influence our approach to the climate crisis. 

I'm influenced by Walter Brueggemann's book, The Prophetic Imagination, and his idea of lament as an essential act of both truth telling and grieving. We live in this culture which rejects grief as too messy, too time-consuming, and too burdensome. And yet, I believe deeply that lament allows us to fully experience grief, rage, sadness, and fear, which unleashes resources within us to be able to see whatever we are grieving in a new way.

Part of our limited imagination comes from limiting our capacity for full emotional expression and response. Who doesn't feel incredible sadness and grief over the fires in Australia, California, and the Amazon rainforest, over the devastating loss of species, over the poisoning of our seas with plastic and oil spills? We need to allow space to feel these feelings. The lament itself is a way of saying, "This is what's wrong, this is what needs to change." It leads to acts of justice.

______

To read the entire interview click here>>

To order a copy of the book click here>>

I am so very excited to be hosting a Virtual Book & Album Launch on Earth Day, which is this Wednesday, April 22nd at 9 am Pacific/12 noon Eastern/5 pm Ireland-UK time. I will be sharing more about the Earth Monastery book and reading some poems from my forthcoming collection The Wisdom of Wild Grace. I'll be joined by wonderful Abbey of the Arts colleagues and wisdom council members – Betsey Beckman (who will share some of the gesture prayers she has created) and Simon de Voil & Richard Bruxvoort Colligan (who will share some of the songs on the new album which companions the book). Please join us for this free event! (It will also be recorded)

This week we have the next installment of our Monk in the World series on the practice of conversion and a new Monk in the World guest post. If you missed my podcast conversation on Encountering Silence you can find Episode 1 here and Episode 2 here.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner

Monk in the World: Conversion 2 ~ Scripture Reflection by John Valters Paintner, Your Online Prior

Dearest monks, artists and pilgrims,

During this Jubilee year of sabbatical we are revisiting our Monk Manifesto by moving slowly through the Monk in the World retreat materials together every Sunday. Each week will offer new reflections on the theme and every six weeks will introduce a new principle.

Principle 7. I commit to a lifetime of ongoing conversion and transformation, recognizing that I am always on a journey with both gifts and limitations.

Jeremiah 31:31-34

A New Covenant

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, 'Know the Lord', for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.

Background

When Moses received the Covenant from Yahweh, the Commandments (at least the first ten, the Decalogue) were etched in stone. Those stone tablets were later put in the Ark of the Covenant. For generations, the nomadic Israelites would carry the Covenant in the Ark with them from place to place. They would even carry it into battle, like a rallying flag. It was an outward sign of their relationship with God.

It was even seen as God's throne on earth. So, it was reasonable to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem when David established it as the capital of the new kingdom. And so it followed, logically, for Solomon to build a Temple around the Ark of the Covenant, If Yahweh had a throne, then a palace was the next step.

But this meant that the visible representation of the Covenant was no longer visible. It was bad enough when the stone tablets were placed in a special, gold-covered box that no one could touch (under penalty of death). Now that box was inside a special room inside the Temple inside a walled compound. There were several layers, barriers between the Chosen People and the Covenant. Only the chief priest could enter the tabernacle to pray directly before the Ark of the Covenant. (So rigid was this restriction that the chief priest had to tie a cord around one of his ankles, because no one would've been allowed to go in and help him should he collapse.)

And so as devastating as it was to lose the Ark of the Covenant when the Babylonians destroyed The Temple in 587 BC as part of their conquest of the Promised Land, the prophet Jeremiah is suggesting that it was actually a good thing. No longer is the Covenant an external thing, behind many barriers and reserved for only the special few. Now the Covenant is within each of us. One need not make a special pilgrimage to go visit the Covenant. The Covenant is something you take with you, wherever you go.

Reflection

It is always sad when something ends. Even if one knows going in that the thing has a predetermined expiration date or that it has run its course and dragging it out would only ruin the experience, it's difficult to let something go. We can even become so accustomed to something that, knowing it has turned negative or harmful, moving on isn't easy.

When I felt compelled to leave my teaching position, I was at a loss. Being a teacher was part of my identity. I studied education as an undergrad. I earned a master's degree in theology and took continuing education classes to better my skills. Was that all a waste now? I was in my forties and it seemed a bit late to be asking what I was going to do with my life.

Just a year or two before that, I had been looking forward to being part of the school's 100th anniversary in a few years. I saw myself taking on new roles and responsibilities at the school, of retiring from the school having helped make it a better place. Suddenly all that was replaced with the realization that I was an intentionally unemployed, middle-aged man.

But what Jeremiah teaches us is that change, even dramatic change can be good. The lesson I took from all that experience of losing/giving up a steady job, is that sometimes we have to say "no" to something, in order to make room for a new "yes."

If the old way is no longer working, then find a new way. With the establishment of their kingdom under the House of David, the Israelites thought they had it all figured out. I thought my teaching job would always be there. It took things shifted out from underneath me to realise that I had become stagnate. I needed something new. I needed to be new.

Conversion isn't a one-time event to be celebrated (and then forgotten). Conversion is a daily activity that takes practice. The bad news is that it takes a lot of work and isn't always easy, we'll often fail. The good news is that we get to try again, try better, every day.

With great and growing love,

John

John Valters Paintner, MTS

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner

Monk in the World Guest Post: Susan Fish

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Susan Fish's reflection on creative work as offering in the midst of trying times.

I've never been to Paris but when I saw the cathedral on fire this week last year, I held my breath. I like knowing that iconic sites like the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame de Paris are there. It is enough for me that they stand in my mind as signs and symbols, pointing.

When Notre Dame began to burn, I recognized that fire as a symbol too: I know what that's like. Over the last three years my life was turned upside down by a family member's head injury, which resulted in an event that felt like a kind of betrayal. The thought of a roof caving in feels very familiar to me. And now, in the first months of 2020, many of us know this experience.

A few years back, after the death of Carrie Fisher who played Princess Leia, I heard she had once said, "Take your broken heart. Turn it into art." 

So I did. I wrote a novel that contained precisely none of the details of my life, and every one of the emotions. It contained its own icon, its own Notre Dame – a painting of the Virgin Mary on the wall of the main character's room in the Florentine convent where she stays to work out her own caved-in roof. 

When my writing coach said the book was structurally sound, off it went into the world to look for a publishing home. 

But as no thanks letters rolled in, I felt like the girl in the story told by writer and minister Robert Fulghum about playing the game Giants, Elves and Wizards with a group of children. As they prepare to play what is effectively a full-body Rock, Paper, Scissors, Fulghum feels a tug on his sleeve. "Where do the mermaids stand?" asks a young girl. Fulghum tries to put her off – the roles don't include mermaid – but she will have none of it: "For I am a mermaid." 

Rejection is never easy and they say you're supposed to recognize that it's not personal, that it's never about your own value or even necessarily the value of the writing. But that's easier said than done. Where do the mermaids stand?

Fulghum's answer to the girl is to tell her, "The mermaids stand right here, next to the King of the Sea."  And that was my answer to my publishing angst too. I am reminded that my worth comes not from publication but from being beloved, that my writing too needs to come out of this place.

The fifth principle of the Monk Manifesto reminds me that living as a monk in the world means committing to "bringing myself fully present to the work I do, whether paid or unpaid, holding a heart of gratitude for the ability to express my gifts in the world in meaningful ways."

I shift that principle a bit to say "whether published or unpublished." This means I need to write even when it seems foolish, like the woman who lavished perfume on the feet of Jesus, mopping it up with her own hair. It means continuing to offer my gifts to the world, even in the face of rejection. The writer Elizabeth O'Connor says, "The artist or prophet [is] the one who dares to act on the bold belief that she has a word to speak that would be healing if it could be heard…our lives are for the greening of the earth and each other."

In this season, it's a question to ask ourselves: how, at a distance, can our lives be for the greening of the earth and each other? In a time of pandemic, how can we express our gifts in the world in meaningful ways?

For me, some of that answer has been in writing small prose poems on my Facebook page, as ways of pointing people to the beauty and the sorrows of life, and in writing daily collect prayers in order to point people toward God. It has also meant not thinking less of my work because I am not a nurse, doctor or frontline worker, but to be a mermaid by the King of the Sea.

I love that Notre Dame will be rebuilt (and that the uproar over its rebuilding led to torched Black churches getting funded in their rebuilding too). I love that Notre Dame's rose windows survived the fire intact. Most of all, I love the story that came out days later, that the rooftop beehive on Notre Dame survived the fire, and that the bees inside had simply been lulled to sleep by the smoke, as they would be when racks of honey were removed. Timbers may have crashed down but beauty and small queens and drones alike have survived

I, too, have survived the crashing that inspired the story and the crashing of rejection, and we too will survive this collective crash. Like the bees making their sweet honey, my work—and yours even if your work is a very different call—is to create with a heart of gratitude out of a place of love, and to send my stories out into the world as a fragrant offering. 

Susan Fish is a writer and editor living in Waterloo, Ontario, Canada. Her Italian novel, Renaissance, will be published in by Innana Publications in 2021.

Easter Blessings from Abbey of the Arts ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

How to Be a Pilgrim – Poem Video from Christine Valters Paintner on Vimeo.

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

Lent is a powerful season of transformation. Forty days in the desert, stripped of our comforts, and buoyed by our commitment to daily practice so that we might arrive at the celebration of Easter deepened and renewed. In many ways this Lent was far more austere than any of us anticipated.

Often, we arrive at the glorious season of resurrection and celebrate for that one day, forgetting it is a span of 50 days, even longer than the Lenten season through which we just traveled. Easter is not just the day when the tomb was discovered empty, but a span of time when days grow longer in the northern hemisphere, blossoms burst forth, and we are called to consider how we might practice this resurrection in our daily lives.

The soul's journey through Lent is like a pilgrimage exploring inner desert places, landscapes, thresholds, and the experience of exile. Ultimately, pilgrimage always leads us back home again with renewed vision. Resurrection is about discovering the home within each one of us, remembering that we are called to be at home in the world, even as we experience ourselves exiled again and again.

Because we are still very much in the midst of a pandemic, it likely feels like Lent has settled in to stay with us for a very long while. We are in the midst of a Good Friday and Holy Saturday cycle of loss and unknowing again and again.

The liturgical year, however, is not a linear passage of time. It is cyclical and spiral, returning to previous moments with new vision. It is the heart of kairos time, which is time outside of time. I know many of us are forgetting what day of the week it is because they all run into one another now.

And in this model of time moving in spirals, it means that even though we move into the radiant season of Easter, we do not leave behind the invitations of the desert or the call of grief. To be human means to hold all of these layers together.

As a poet, when I am asked what I write about most often, my response is that for me poetry helps me to be present to a world where terrible things happen and where amazing things happen, sometimes all at once. The grief, the loss, the unknowing, the fear of what is to come, they are all real. The gratitude, the kindness, the caring, the wonder at simple moments, they are all real as well.

The Gospel readings during the Easter season are about the resurrection appearances of Jesus: Thomas doubts and needs to touch Jesus' wounds; the nets that were empty are pulled ashore overflowing with fish; the disciples on the road to Emmaus recognize Jesus in the breaking of the bread; Jesus breathes on them the gift of the Spirit; and of course the celebration of breath and fire at Pentecost when everyone was most afraid of what was to come. In all of these stories, there is a sense of generosity and abundance, of caring for needs, and of finding solace and assurance in the wounds. Perhaps these are just the stories we need for these times.

During these dark days of uncertainty, I have been making room for grief. Music and movement become the container for my sorrow. But I have also been making room for laughter, for affection, for connection with others.

The truth of resurrection isn't that we hold onto some false banner of hope, denying the reality around us. Resurrected life means we know our woundedness as a place where grace can also enter in.

Tomorrow (Monday, April 13th) we are beginning a virtual 8-week pilgrimage together in community through my book The Soul of a Pilgrim. As I was leading the Novena last month, the image of pilgrimage shimmered for me often. I think the archetype of pilgrimage can be a helpful one to navigate these times because to be a pilgrim means to respond to a call (one that is often not of our own choosing), to discern what we want to carry with us, to lean into uncertainty and unknowing as wise teachers, and to know that we are invited to begin again and again, each time we stumble.

It would be wonderful to have you join us if you feel the spark and inclination to be in a prayerful and loving community space. I will be leading a weekly live session with a meditation and time for questions, there is a vibrant and lovingly facilitated forum, and we have several creative explorations each week including writing, photography, and gentle movement. We are also offering a sliding scale to be sure that the program is accessible to anyone who wants to make this journey with us.

Register for The Soul of a Pilgrim here>>

Also below we have our next installment in the Monk in the World series, a new Monk in the World guest post from Abbey Wisdom Council member Lita Quimson, and a few other places you can find Christine on the web (including parts 1 and 2 of her interview with the wonderful Encountering Silence podcast.

From the Abbey Archives, I wrote two articles for U.S. Catholic magazine about pilgrimage: 8 Practices of a Good Pilgrimage provides a good overview of the themes of my book The Soul of a Pilgrim and 7 Pilgrimages You Can Go On Now offers some inspiration for these times when travel is not possible.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD REACE

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner

Monk in the World: Conversion 1 – A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

During this Jubilee year of sabbatical we are revisiting our Monk Manifesto by moving slowly through the Monk in the World retreat materials together every Sunday. Each week will offer new reflections on the theme and every six weeks will introduce a new principle.

7. I commit to a lifetime of ongoing conversion and transformation, recognizing that I am always on a journey with both gifts and limitations.

"Translations vary, but in our modern day, conversatio morum suorum generally means conversion of manners, a continuing and unsparing assessment and reassessment of one's self and what is most important and valuable in life.  In essence, the individual must continually ask: What is worth living for in this place at this time?  And having asked, one must then seek to act in accordance with the answer discerned."

—Paul Wilkes, Beyond the Walls: Monastic Wisdom for Everyday Life

Conversion is one of the central commitments which Benedictine monks make.  The other two are obedience and stability which have to do with listening deeply for God's voice in the world and committing to staying put even in the midst of conflict or struggle.

Conversion for me means to always allow myself to be surprised by God.  It invites me to a sense of wonder and awe and recognizing that God's imagination is far wider than my own.

One of my favorite lines from Benedict's Rule is "always we begin again" and he describes the Rule as for "beginners."  This beginner's mind and heart is central to conversion.  As monks in the world we are always on the path, always growing, we never fully arrive and so we always have more to learn.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD REACE

Art © Kristin Noelle

Monk in the World Guest Post: Lita Quimson

I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series from Wisdom Council member Lita Quimson entitled, "Kindred Spirits: A Divine Encounter."

My Name is Lita, and I am the founder of On the Third Day (OTTD) Renewal and Formation Center, an ecumenical ministry of spiritual formation and accompaniment in the Philippines. The first time I came across Christine's book, "The Soul of a Pilgrim", I instantly connected with her heart. I immediately went to the Abbey of the Arts website and got even more excited because I found in there everything I was searching for. I felt a deep connection.

Apart from OTTD, I also founded Cherimoya Eco-Spirituality and Retreat Center, a sacred space strategically placed an hour from Manila so it can be accessible to as many people as possible. Many people have come and spent some quality time with God in nature and in silence. They go back to the city refreshed and restored by God's presence.

One of the major inspirations for the founding of our ecumenical ministry and the retreat center was St. Ignatius, the founder of the Society of Jesus. In his Spiritual Exercises, he highlighted the connection between the creator and the created. This has become a core mission of the center and ministry.

My ministry was also influenced by the author Matthew Fox. I was giving a 3-day retreat on creation spirituality based on Fox's book when I was struck by a chapter saying God is the most creative being in the universe. Although we have been using art expression as a form of reflection in many of our retreats, those words opened up a whole new area in my life. It began my search into the deeper meaning of words and concepts such as hospitality, generosity, and creativity and how these are all reflections of the heart of God. In an interview with Christine some years ago she was asked about a word that would capture what Christianity really meant to her. Her answer was "hospitality". It stayed with me to this day. It strengthened my resolve to know more about God's heart.

Our ministry and center welcome every seeker who comes knocking. We extend Benedictine hospitality to those who need it. For us, all a person has to do is to desire to know God and we will be ready to assist him or her. We believe that the lack of financial resources should not be a hindrance to seek God. We do a number of fundraising events to build a scholarship fund so we can help those who need financial assistance in enrolling in our programs. The generosity of our donors is overwhelming and so we also pass on that generosity.

The ministry has been here for 8 years and we have done a number of expressive arts such as djembe drumming, painting, origami, mosaicing, mandala-making, poetry, and clay sculpture. Personally, I have fallen in love with mosaicing and this has become my preferred way of expressing myself. The fragmented shards of porcelain constantly remind me of how broken I am and yet can be fashioned into something beautiful through God's love and grace who heals and puts us all together. I finished my first piece last year and have many more lined up for the center. We have tableaus depicting earth, wind, fire, and water. They are all inspired by Christine's book, a major reference for my creation spirituality retreat as well.

As a result of a deep connection with Creation, my seekers and I are launched by God's grace to become fully alive. We are invited to respond to God's call through a life well-lived and pleasing to God.

 

Fully alive and wild at heart. Lita founded and leads On the Third Day Renewal and Formation Center and Cherimoya Eco-Spirituality and Retreat Center in the Philippines. She specializes in designing sacred landscapes and is a believer and encourager of connecting with God through the surroundings. Lita uses expressive arts in various forms to encourage her retreatants to know God and themselves more deeply. Lita is an experienced spiritual director trained in various local and international institutions. She holds a Master's Degree in Ministry with a major in spiritual formation, and certificates in spiritual direction and formation.

Let art, poetry, and music hold you in the paradox of these times ~ A Love Note from Your Online Abbess

In a Dark Time

Do not rush to make meaning.

When you smile and say what purpose

this all serves, you deny grief

a room inside you,

you turn from thousands who cross

into the Great Night alone,

from mourners aching to press

one last time against the warm

flesh of their beloved,

from the wailing that echoes

in the empty room.

When you proclaim who caused this,

I say pause, rest in the dark silence

first before you contort your words

to fill the hollowed out cave,

remember the soil will one day

receive you back too.

Sit where sense has vanished,

control has slipped away,

with futures unravelled,

where every drink tastes bitter

despite our thirst.

When you wish to give a name

to that which haunts us,

you refuse to sit

with the woman who walks

the hospital hallway, hears

the beeping stop again and again,

with the man perched on a bridge

over the rushing river.

Do not let your handful of light

sting the eyes of those

who have bathed in darkness.

—Christine Valters Paintner

Dear monks, artists and pilgrims,

Ireland went officially into lockdown mode a week ago although we are allowed to go to the grocery store, to medical appointments, and exercise within 2 km of home. Thankfully our daily walk with our dog Sourney is 2 km up the canal and then 2 km back down the river.

I certainly never imagined we'd be spending the last few weeks of our sabbatical time in quarantine. The actual retreating is not hard for us as we both love to spend time alone at home, John and I can write for hours at our desks and then meet in the kitchen for dinner and to watch a movie or series in the evenings.

When all this started unfolding a couple of weeks ago, the call to offer the free Novena came with such clarity. It was such a gift for me to really remind myself how much these ancient mystical and contemplative practices have to offer us in the uncertainty of our lives. The other gift was being reminded what an amazing global community the Holy Disorder of Dancing Monks is.

As I sink back into quieter rhythms again, I feel tremendously blessed to have my days filled with writing, art, music, and movement. A typical day for an online Abbess certainly begins with some journaling, poetry writing, meditation, and yoga.

From there I've been spending time writing my next book commitment due to the publisher at the end of summer, doing final edits for my poetry collection this fall, working with an artist for some illustrations for my book on Sacred Time due next spring, giving interviews in writing and on podcasts to promote Earth, Our Original Monastery – my book just released(!), promoting our new album of 14 songs to accompany it, working with our designer to create a full color postcard book of the 12 beautiful images created to accompany some of my poems in the fall collection, working with John to carve some art in lino blocks for a Mary book that I will be writing next, printing up the St Muirgen mermaid icon card and considering how to make that available for folks, praying with a series of songs we are considering for an album in spring 2021 of blessings and songs inspired by scripture, dancing with some of the gesture prayers created by my dear friend Betsey that will go in a series of videos, gathering the files for a spoken word album of me reading my poems, creating a series of poetry videos (one of which is above), and of course times of rest and stillness in between.

My days right now are filled with visual art, poetry, prose, dance, and music, and it is the perfect antidote to the climate of anxiety and fear in the world right now.

Rather than a distraction from those things, immersing myself in imaginative possibility and the creative vision of other artists helps me to see something much bigger and vaster than myself, beneath the surface are endless possibilities coming into birth.

When you feel anxiety rising, find a poem you love and sit with it. Read it again and again until it becomes knit into your bones and memory. Let a phrase become your prayer and a compass for your days.

Play a song you love and let it carry you into the river of grief, releasing all that has been resisted until it flows no more, dance with it, and then rest back into the stillness.

Find a piece of art you adore and enter into its landscape in your imagination. Let it carry you to new places.

Art helps us sit in the uncertainty, the mystery, the paradox of being human without needing to resolve anything. It calls us into the heart of grief and joy, co-mingled. The longer we can rest there and resist our need to control and plan, the sooner we live our way into a new way of being that has its own gifts for the future we are creating. We are in this together. I am weeping each day and laughing each day.

In addition to the new poem and poem video above, as well as the many resources below including our next installment in the Monk in the World series, the final in A Different Kind of Fast series for Lent, another Monk in the World guest post, I have a few links to other places on the web you can find my work:

This week I led a free hour-long webinar for Paraclete Press on Celtic spirituality and the practice of threshold. You can watch the recording here. The scripture passage I use for the meditation is Jeremiah 6:16 –  Stand at the crossroads and look, and ask for the ancient paths,  Where the good way lies, and walk in it, and find rest for your souls .
My poem "Ross Errilly Friary" was published in the Irish literary journal Crannog. Because they were not able to do a live launch this time of the issue, they invited contributors to record themselves reading their poem for a virtual launch. You can find mine along with a number of other wonderful poems being read at this link. Pour a cup of tea and let poetry steady you.
Virtual Book & Album Launch – on Earth Day, Wednesday, April 22nd at 12 noon eastern time, I will be joined by Betsey Beckman, Simon de Voil, and Richard Bruxvoort Colligan for a live webinar session where we will be formally launching  Earth, Our Original Monastery  book and album. Reflections, poems, songs, gesture prayers and more! Register here to join us.
Ave Maria Press is still having a big sale on the e-book versions of most of my titles with them including my newest Earth, Our Original Monastery ($7.99 on Amazon.com) and other titles as low as 99 cents.
From the Abbey Archives – a reflection on Holy Saturday: The Space Between and resting in the paradox. Click here to read.
I was interviewed this week at the wonderful podcast  Encountering Silence about my newest book Earth, Our Original Monastery and wild silence and the cloister of the earth. Tune into Part 1 here.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD, REACE

Video © Christine Valters Paintner (text/voice) and Travis Reed (video)

You can share the video at this link>>

Monk in the World: Sabbath 6 – Questions for Reflection and Closing Blessing

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims,

During this Jubilee year of sabbatical we are revisiting our Monk Manifesto by moving slowly through the Monk in the World retreat materials together every Sunday. Each week will offer new reflections on the theme and every six weeks will introduce a new principle.

Principle 6: I commit to rhythms of rest and renewal through the regular practice of Sabbath and resist a culture of busyness that measures my worth by what I do.

This week I invite you to ponder the following questions as guides for your Sabbath practice.

What happens when you allow yourself to receive the full grace of Sabbath rest?

What longings are kindled in this space of stillness?

Closing Blessing from Christine

God of holy rest,

on the seventh day you paused,

laying down the work of creation

and entered into sacred stillness.

Kindle in me the strength to say no

to a world of perpetual busyness.

Sustain in me the desire to simply be.

Let my life be a loving witness to

a world of restoration and renewal,

joy and laughter.

With great and growing love,

Christine

Christine Valters Paintner, PhD REACE

Photo © Christine Valters Paintner