Adventures in Baking, Humility, and Community

As someone who loves spending time in the kitchen (My dream job in second grade was to be a chef.), I enjoy taking on a new culinary challenge. The newest challenge is a pastry, a tart to be exact—something I've never made before.

I found a delicious recipe for a salted-caramel chocolate tart, and a trip to New York next week was the perfect reason to finally make it, in order to be shared with our host. So, off I went.

Here is the crust after the butter had been incorporated. I kneaded it a few times and formed it into a disk shape to be chilled. Then, onto the salted-caramel filling.

Those are the pictures pre- and post-butter.

I got the first two parts done Wednesday evening. Thursday night it was time to bake the crust, again, something I've never done. But, I began rolling it out...

And, I was pleased with the results.

So, I got it into the oven, and when the crust was done, I looked at it, amazed at how beautiful it was. I was so darn excited about the crust, and I began to pull it out of the oven.

And, here comes humility...

Because literally the next second...

Straight on the floor! I was stunned/devastated. Of course, just after it happened, one of my sisters walked by and immediately began helping me to clean it up. What a gift. Another sister came by with equal compassion.

I had no idea what to do. At first I thought I would just give up and arrive empty-handed, which would have been fine, but I also knew I could start again without too much of a hassle. ("Always we begin again.") I re-made the dough and chilled it last night. This morning I had a successful bake. Tonight I will fill it with the caramal filling and top it with a chocolate ganache.

Say a few prayers for me! As the cliche goes, "Life is the best teacher."

Stories from New York to follow—Until then...

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Today

Today I’m flying low and I’m
not saying a word.
I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I’m taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I’m traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.

by Mary Oliver

Happy Sabbath.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

A Little Manual for Beginners

I have a dear friend who just moved to Erie, and with her she brought a “living artifact” of Benedictine life. It turns out that her grandfather was an oblate of the Benedictines in St. Joseph, MN. She discovered this treasure—with a copyright date from 1948!

How cool is this? Upon finding the Table of Contents...

I turned to the section on humility found in the “Benedictine Way of Life.” Here is the wisdom “of the day”:

St. Benedict could not have arrived at this beautiful thought of ordaining the monk to be, as it were, a courtier of the Great King, if he had not had a profoundly true conception of the relation of the creature to the Creator, of the Christian to Christ; and if he had not been prompted by this conception to make the monk’s life the expression, as perfect as human limitations may allow, of what ought to be the creature’s and the Christian’s attitude and manner of life over against God, so that it might be, in some measure, an expression of the service given Him by those who are united with Him in heaven. 

But neither could he expect the monk, the model for the ideal Christian service of God, to carry out this mission faithfully, except the latter have a proper conception of his relation to God and strive to realize it in his daily life. No one seeks God except the light of grace has shown him his true relation to God as His creature, made to serve Him and destined to be united with Him in everlasting life; totally dependent upon Him not only for the present life, but also unable, without His grace, to obtain eternal life. The habitual recognition of this, not only in theory, but in every attitude and act of life, constitutes the virtue which we call humility.

How about that? Word choice and some theology aside, I found this an interesting and fascinating look back in time!

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Merton on Monasticism

Wherever you have [...] a small group attempting to do this thing, attempting to love God and serve him and reach union with him, you are bound to have some kind of monasticism. This kind of monasticism cannot be extinguished. It is imperishable. It represents an instinct of the human heart, and it represents a charism given by God to man [...] and because we believe this, we have given ourselves to the kind of life we have adopted.

I finished reading the book, The Life You Save May Be Your Own last week. It traced the intersection of the lives of Dorothy Day, Walker Percy, Flannery O’Connor, and Thomas Merton. This quote from Merton comes right at the end of his life, when we was speaking at the conference in Asia where he died by electrocution.

As I read these words, I stopped once, and again, and then again. I needed to keep re-reading them because they struck me (male language notwithstanding!) so strongly. The monastic life is gift that God continually gives to the world.

Let us receive it.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

Benedictine Travels

I had the opportunity to travel to Minnesota on Thursday to attend the American Benedictine Academy (ABA) conference at St. Benedict Monastery in St. Joseph, MN. This community finds its home just a few miles down the road from St. John’s in Collegeville.

The theme of the conference was Artisans of the Monastery, or Chapter 57 of the Rule of Benedict. We heard thoughtful presentations on the creative process, viewed some art from both communities and other Benedictines, sang hymns together written by Benedictines, and enjoyed each other’s company.

I was struck by many moments throughout the time, most especially listening to a monk from St. John’s read his poetry. He first started writing at the age of 75, and he is now in his 90’s! But, what I loved about that particular experience was that Fr. Killian only has use of one eye, so his brother monk gently helped him read the words on the page. It was a true moment of tenderness and mutual love.

We witnessed some incredible needlework of the sisters from St. Benedict Monastery, and we got to see the 28 pages of the St. John’s Bible that were on display presently. My time there renewed some of the creative fire inside myself, which is always a great gift.

Let us be grateful for the inspiration of art and creativity in our lives.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

 Incredible needlework from the late 1800’s and early 1900’s; this was part of a massive vestment.

Another piece of needlework; Saint George and the Dragon

And even more amazing, the backside of the piece—nearly identical to the front!

We spent time praying with the foundress of Benedictine life in the United States—Benedictica Riepp

The Magnificat in St. John’s Bible

A little bit of home in Minnesota—grapevines—though not quite as many!

Our God is Here

The first step of Benedictine humility is to keep the reverence of God always before us.

For our current formation class, we are diving into Torah. This past week we focused on Leviticus, which while challenging because of all the laws, has some definite richness. Our teacher, one of our sisters, talked to us about the belief regarding the tabernacle present to the community. It was right there. And the people believe that it held God. God was right there. Changed the way one followed the laws a bit, no? God is right there.

This got me reflecting pretty quickly. Do I live from my belief that God is right here? Do I live the first step of humility? In the dailinesss/busyness/quickness of life, I probably don’t do it too well. How easy it is to forget that my call as Christian, and even more so, as Benedictine, is to live the truth that, indeed, God is here. It changes everything, as it should. We sing it in one of my favorite songs at Liturgy, too:

Here in this time, here in this place,
here we are standing face to face.
Here in our hearts, here in our lives,
our God is here.

Here for the broken, here for the strong,
here in this temple we belong.
Here in our hearts, here in our lives,
our God is here.

And we cry:
“Holy! Holy! Holy are you!”
We cry: “Holy! Holy! Holy and true!”
Amen, we do believe our God is here.
Our God is here.

Beyond asking for the grace, how do we keep God always present in our actions, words, and experiences? How do we allow this truth to transform the way we live?

Amen, we do believe our God is here.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

I’m Back (and grateful)

Yes, I have been gone for awhile. After wrapping up a lovely two weeks participating in the Joan Chittister Institute for Contemporary Spirituality, I headed out of town to help facilitate a retreat and take a bit of R&R time with a friend.

Between great and profound spiritual reflection with the group of young women at the institute, the experience of facilitating a retreat, lots of support from my sisters, and the gift of time with a dear friend, I am full and a bit unable to put into words what the past few weeks have held for me.

But I have been reflecting quite a bit on what it means to be a woman, in all its complexity and fullness—though part of the reflection came from the seeing the wonderful documentary about Mr. Rogers, Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

I think the thing that was most beautifully and well conveyed in the film was the ability of Fred Rogers to take the complexity and fullness of humanity and simplify them into daily lessons and the call to love. (I did tell someone that I found the film to be very Benedictine—dailiness and love!)

Women have such an ability to be present to the dailiness of life while simultaneously maintaining perspective on the big picture—the creation of the reign of God. I’ve watched many women do this in specific and unique ways through the institute and other personal experiences. Each time I was awed, gobsmacked, and grateful.

Here’s to the women in our lives who daily teach us to love.

Let us walk in the holy presence.

While on a walk at the lake a friend pointed out how the fallen branch was still getting enough moisture to produce new leaves.

a beautiful wood carving of John the Baptist crying out

 We did some pie making, which turned out to be quite tricky in hot, humid summer weather when crust requires very chilled ingredients! But the result was delicious!

 prayer time with dripping candles

back into the beauty of Erie summers