The Community of Jesus

Gregorian Chant: The Eternal Song

Scribes Office — Mon, 20 May 2013 12:00:10 +0000

Paraclete

For the Spirit of the Lord has filled the world, and that which hold all things together knows what is said.

The Introit for Pentecost reflects the strength and power of the text — a passage from the Wisdom of Solomon, set in Mode 8. The opening passage starts on the lowest note of the piece, giving it a brooding, mysterious quality. It quickly ascends to its highest point on the word replevit (fills), demonstrating the expansiveness of the Holy Spirit’s action. The two phrases are punctuated with joyful Alleluias. The entire piece exudes an energy and authority, reflective of the Gift that was so lavishly poured out on the day of Pentecost.

02 Ad missam in die – Introit_ Spiritus Domini(1)

Recipes From A Monastery Kitchen

Gourmet Nun — Sat, 18 May 2013 12:00:58 +0000

by Gourmet Nun

I love to be surprised by another new artistically crafted dessert that is original and breathtakingly beautiful. Some are so absolutely stunning and unusual that they really amount to works of art and one almost hates to destroy their beauty by eating them.

However I am equally as thrilled when someone digs into the old worn recipe box and comes up with an old-time favorite that is not necessarily glamorous or stellar in its presentation, but rather heartwarming in the way it satisfies one’s palette and leaves the eater feeling “cozy” and comforted.

That is why I was so pleased to learn that one of my oldest and most favorite dessert recipes was being revived and used for this coming week’s activity. It is a perfect accompaniment for the meal that is not elegant as much as wholesome and hearty. I know that the men are going to enjoy it as you will when you try it, and what a perfect time to make it while the rhubarb patch is at it’s peak.

Fresh Orange Rhubarb Betty

1 ¾ cups sugar
1 Tablespoon flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon grated orange peel, divided
5 cups cubed rhubarb (1 ½ pounds)
1 orange, peeled, cut into cubes
3 + 1 cups bread cubes
¼ + ¼ cup butter
½ cup coconut

Makes 12 servings

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Combine sugar, flour, salt and ½ teaspoon orange peel. Stir in fruits. Add the 3 cups bread cubes and ¼ cup butter. Mix together and put into a 9 x 13-inch baking dish. Mix the remaining ½ teaspoon orange peel, the 1 cup bread cubes, the remaining ¼ cup butter and the coconut and sprinkle on top. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes or until tender. This recipe may be frozen for use later.

Truth To Tell

Sr. Nun Other — Fri, 17 May 2013 12:00:14 +0000

by Sr Nunother

I have a friend who sometimes declares, “I need to own my beans.” What she means is, “I need to look at this squarely and take responsibility for who I am and what I do.” It’s so easy for me to side-step the truth and for a variety of reasons: protect my pride, not risk a relationship, avoid pain, avoid reality, remain superior and not appear needy.

Two weeks ago, I served a dinner in Bethany Guest House. As I removed the pie from the warm oven, I carelessly left the oven door open. After cutting two pie slices and adding scoops of vanilla ice cream, I turned and charged toward the dining room. Oops. I slammed my shin against the stainless steel edge of the open oven door. The wound looked strange but I decided to minimize. I calmly called to one of the guests (I knew her well) and asked if she would mind pouring tea and serving pie. She came into the kitchen, noticed the blood trail and said, “Honey, you need a doctor.” The cut required thirteen stitches, but I maintained throughout that I was fine, it didn’t hurt and I’d be back to work that same evening. But what was I really feeling? More along the lines of “Aaaugh!! My leg is killing me and I want the best medical help available!”

There are moments each day when I adjust the truth, most of them silly and pointless. Why not simply own my beans and live in that liberating place called reality.

Late Have I Loved You

Artist's Eye — Thu, 16 May 2013 12:00:22 +0000

by Artist Eye

The other day we were sharing a few things that we were grateful for and one person said that they were grateful for the rain after gardening.The phrase sounded so biblical, it made me smile. It sounds like that verse in Second Samuel: He is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning, like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.

Then I thought, why shouldn’t it sound biblical? Same needy children of men; same bountiful God; same need to rehearse our gratitude: And surely, His Mercy shall come down as the rain after gardening. . . .

Freebird

Melodius Monk — Wed, 15 May 2013 12:00:46 +0000

by Melodius Monk

Sometimes when I watch birds dart to and fro, I dream of having some of their qualities. There’s the obvious quickness I would have loved as an athlete, but there is another quality that I cannot easily grasp, one that I feel content to sit and admire. The little birds stop and start so decisively, so seemingly in control and confident to stop, to start, to wait, to listen, to cease. Maybe it’s the listening and ceasing that appeals?

The birds seem free to bounce from branch to branch, suddenly soaring across the yard at some un-foreseen whim. They may stop at a spot on the grass for food, atop telephone lines for a chat with friends, but best of all they entertain with a series of deft defying acrobatics with no fear or worry. Maybe this is what I covet — to live by Jesus’ promise that worrying will not add anything to my life. In the Gospel Jesus uses the sparrows as an example, and today he reminds me as I observe the little creatures, that by trusting in His kingdom, all the things I covet, and more, will be given.

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Life of a Crab

Blue Heron — Tue, 14 May 2013 12:00:59 +0000

by Blue Heron

A narrow strip of sand running along the edge of the marsh grasses. Here the tide comes and goes. The fiddler crabs have surfaced again after the winter and are busy scampering sideways over the sand; excavating their houses. As I walk along they feel the vibrations of my steps and flee into their holes, leaving just of the tip of a claw visible at the entrance. Looks like a no trespassing sign to me.

Fiddlers are such amazing creatures. Their eyes swing up and down on little poles. The males have one extra large claw for bravado. This claw is also the source for their name because it looks like they are dragging around a large fiddle. What struck me today is that the fiddlers live in a colony, actually quite close to each other; yet they seem to operate as individuals. This may be ignorance on my part, but they move around each other without any acknowledgement of one another, and when danger approaches; it seems to be every man out for himself.

I have a tendency to act a bit crabby myself. I live in the midst of a colony of fellow Christians but I can still resort to living alone, withdrawing into my little hole. When you live in close proximity to others reality is never very far away. Sometimes I raise up my big claw and wave it around to let everyone know that I am not a push over. But I find that sitting alone in my hole is not what it used to be. I use to crawl in, put up my claws on the ottoman, and wait for the tide to come in. But I am learning; still crabbing but learning. Much to learn; much to appreciate.

Gregorian Chant: The Eternal Song

Sr. Fidelis — Mon, 13 May 2013 12:00:39 +0000

by Sr Fidelis

Ascension – a time of expectant waiting. Jesus had told his disciples ahead of time that he would be taken from them so that the promised Comforter would come, yet I often try to imagine what it must have been like for the disciples to see him in bodily form for the last time, ascending from their sight. Two men in white robes appeared and said to them: Men of Galilee, what are you wondering at, looking up into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come back the same way as you have seen him going up to heaven. (Acts 1:11)

The Offertory you are about to hear using this text, from the feast of the Ascension, is one of the most unique chants in the repertoire. This particular Mode 1 tune is used four times during the Church Year – each with appropriate texts: Ascension, Dedication of a Church, St. Michael and all Angels, and finally All Saints. In each rendition, there is a beautiful rising melisma (many notes) on the pivotal word of the text which relates to “ascending” in some way. Listen for the word “ascendentem“. You cannot help but hear the imagery portrayed.

21Offertory_ Viri Galilaei(4)

Recipes from a Monastery Kitchen

Gourmet Nun — Sat, 11 May 2013 12:00:55 +0000

by Gourmet Nun

I think the biggest event of this past week (well, maybe not, but it seems that way…) was the visitation of the wild turkey. I was talking with a friend in one of the offices and she suddenly jumped up and said “there’s a wild turkey!” and ran out the door. He appeared in the entryway to our common, and proceeded to climb up onto the guest house patio, as if he belonged there. What a handsome fellow! I had never seen one close up, and it was a real treat to see him strutting back and forth, admiring himself in the windows.

For a recent brunch type reception, I was asked to come up with a mini egg dish that was similar to quiche, but not heavy. We tried a number of things, and discovered a delicious breakfast option. We tried it first in pastry, which is nice, but then switched it to a ham cup and…oh my!!! Here they are in a breakfast-sized form, which we made for a retreat this past weekend, but you can also do them mini-size, which are delightful for a brunch reception!

Fluffy Breakfast Eggs in a Ham Cup

6 slices of ham

6 whole eggs

6 egg whites

2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 Tablespoon chopped chives

2 Tablespoon sour cream

1/3 cup monterey jack cheese, grated

1/3 cup fresh parmesan, grated

1/4 cup diced red pepper

1/4 cup diced onion

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Spray 6 ramekins with cooking spray. Line with ham, trimming so you don’t have too much overhang — just a little border of ham over lip of ramekin. Saute red pepper and onion until soft. Divide cheeses and pepper/onion mixture among ramekins. Whip eggs and egg whites with salt until frothy, then add chives and sour cream. Divide among the ramekins evenly.Bake in a 375 degree oven until puffed and golden, about 25 minutes. (note: You can use any kind of cheese or fresh herbs, according to your preference) Have fun!

In Beauty and Truth

Sr. Nun Other — Fri, 10 May 2013 12:00:22 +0000

by Sr Nunother

God is love. It’s just that simple. Sometimes I question: if you are love, how could you, why didn’t you, where were you? He could very well ask those questions of me. Grounded in truth and reality, God’s love is all consuming. He asks that I understand and live the truth, not for his sake but for my own. My reality is misshapen and designed to accommodate a particular set of unhealthy patterns. God’s reality is filled with possibility and reclamation.

God is love in spring time renewal, breath-catching beauty that captures my attention for a liberating moment. As a bearer of truth, Beauty enhances and reshapes thought, and in its stillness draws us from the all-consuming pace of ordinary life.

God is love in beauty and in truth. With exemplary care and artistry, He mends our broken lives and reclaims us as his own.

Faults

Melodius Monk — Thu, 09 May 2013 12:00:11 +0000

by Melodius Monk

Anyone who knows me, knows I hate being wrong. I want to run from it and the humiliation I feel as quickly and as permanently as possible. This weekend a friend pointed out a job I didn’t do as I had been asked. Oops. It turns out I was wrong.

The next morning, still struggling with my embarrassment, but ready to give it another try, I stumbled on a book while waiting for the coffee to brew. I randomly opened it hoping to occupy my sleepy brain with something. I opened to a chapter called Dealing with our Faults. I read:

“We must be neither amazed or disheartened (at our faults). We are not more wicked than we were. We are really less so, but while our evil diminishes, our light increases, and we are struck with painful dismay at its extent. We must not be discouraged either …discouragement is not the fruit of humility, but of pride. Nothing can be worse. Suppose we have stumbled, or even fallen. Let us rise and run again. All our falls are useful if they strip us of a disastrous confidence in ourselves, while they do not take away a humble and saving trust in God” - Francois Fenelon

Maybe it was a good day after all.