by Theresa Henson
I am learning that the rhythm of a Monastery is slow and steady. The bells toll at the same time each day for prayer. Anything you do will ultimately be interrupted by the bells and the effect on work is that the day’s tasks stay succulent with space and light.
Day after day, these bells have an effect on me where I feel my rough edges begin to smooth over and the crinkled places start to smooth out. Sister Miriam says the Monastery is like a rock tumbler and we are the rocks. The rhythm and the effect of being in monastic daily life smooths us over and makes the ordinary shine.
The bells also delineate time, which gives space. I am coming to believe that space is the essence of hospitality – a Benedictine value that is studied diligently and earnestly expressed by this community. Why? Because hospitality is spiritually essential. Receiving one another, offering the gift of spaciousness to each other, we choose to not interfere with the divine presence of healing and inspiration that abounds.
To walk amongst those who have made a lifetime commitment to the Rule of Benedict (or the Rule of Listening as I would call it), I am always being received and being heard. There is always space for me here. Nobody is trying to fix me. I am welcomed. There is simply a fundamental invitation to prayer and community – two things that mediate encounters with the ultimate healer.
I think Benedict must have known that we are all strange and courageous mysteries that have survived great challenges to be where we are in our lives. The Monastery fosters reverence. Benedict gave simple guidelines to honor one another. To be hospitable is to celebrate that within another person that has rallied and chosen life.
In this space of love I realize that there is no more need for certain defenses. Internalized criticisms show up simply for what they are and so I can let them go. I achieve more freedom and a greater capacity and desire to offer the same spaciousness to others.
