Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Getting to Know the Kelleys

Two of the people most dedicated and devoted to the Monastery of St. Gertrude are not vowed Benedictine sisters, but are instead a married couple living nearby. Fred and Jeannette Kelley have devoted themselves to continuously volunteering and serving at the Monastery in every way they can. While they might seem like an unlikely pair from looking at them, the love they have for each other is clearly evident, and just as evident is their love for the community at the Monastery of St. Gertrude.

Sr. Teresa and Jeannette

Originally introduced to many of the sisters through church programs, they eventually became oblates, two of the first eight to ever do so with this community. An oblate is a lay member of the community who follows the Rule of St. Benedict insofar as their state in life allows including men or women, married or single. Over time, Benedictine spirituality became even more entrenched in their lives and thus, when the time came to retire, moving to Cottonwood to be closer to the Monastery became the logical choice. Since then Fred is a regular volunteer at the Historical Museum on campus and enjoys helping the kitchen staff by washing pots and pans (which I can attest is also a tremendous help to everyone else). Jeannette can be regularly found answering the phone and listening intently to everyone who needs her. She also co-coordinates the Oblate community with Sr. Teresa Jackson, a job that never seems to slow. In these ways and more, the Kelleys are giving back to a community that gives them so much.

Sr. Mary and Fred

Fred at one point when we were talking remarked that he always wanted a sister. Today he has about 50 of them through the relationships he has found here. Jeannette too has appreciated being with the sisters and feels hopeful about the future of the community. The oblate community will also help further the monastery, creating a foundation of support for the sisters' future. Maybe other oblates will follow suit, move nearby and assist like the Kelleys have done. Indeed, stranger things have occurred because of the “Benedictine magnetism” as Fred describes it. For Jeannette, the prayer and spiritual support from both the monastery and the oblates has become her favorite aspect of her involvement.

For myself, I have met many of the oblates, and have come to know how great they are as a group and as individuals. Because of this, I am categorically interested in my own potential commitment to a community someday. Being a vowed religious does not seem to be the call for me, but the possibility of living completely as I am and living my faith in the best way that I can (as the oblates do) seems to be the invitation for me.

The ultimate test of a place, in my opinion, is through the image of roots. The Kelleys have found such deep roots in Cottonwood and at the Monastery that they could not imagine being anywhere else. As I reflect on my time here as it comes to a close, I know they are right. If I had this year to live over, I cannot imagine being anywhere else.

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Talking with Sr. Teresa

When I first considered coming to Idaho after living on the East coast my entire life, I began polling everyone I knew by asking them, “What’s in Idaho?” All I knew was that there was a Benedictine monastery named the Monastery of St. Gertrude, and one of the sisters there was a Sr. Teresa. She quickly became Sr. Teresa of Idaho, in order for me to distinguish her from a Sr. Theresa that I worked with, and thus became the first of many of the St. Gertrude community to receive a nickname from me. While the process of a ten-month monastic immersion has certainly been a learning experience for both of us, it became important to me to understand what Teresa does other than answering my incessant, random questions.

Upon her entrance to the Monastery, Teresa began working with the retreat ministry, later becoming involved with the oblate community. Over time, she has also become the director for vocations as well as for live-in volunteers, eventually becoming known as the membership director. The title of membership director seems less specific, which is precisely for this reason that Teresa favors it. Membership, according to Teresa, can be a vocations interest as a vowed religious sister, but it also includes the oblates, volunteers, and monastic immersioners. This allows for her to listen more deeply to where each individual might feel the most at home in regards to all the different possibilities. Of course, her experience as a spiritual director also plays a big part in this process. This can be the best and most challenging aspect of her job. Teresa’s favorite part of all that she does is getting to know people on their spiritual journeys, listening and sharing knowledge at a depth that is rare in most other situations. This same aspect however, can provide a great challenge for Teresa. If, in the listening, it seems for any number of reasons that it will not be a good fit for someone to come to the Monastery, she is then challenged to articulate this understanding to the person, a task often easier said than done. Nevertheless, Teresa continues her work to attract solid, healthy and committed members of all kinds, for her belief is that these members will be the future. Religious life of all kinds is dwindling, as is most clearly evident with the numerous shortages of priests as of late. Vocations are not what they used to be, and the growth of any community will require an acceptance of nontraditional members. In this time of transition, Teresa is hopeful for what will come in the future, but it will take creativity and transformation for a bright future to occur.

Enjoying a well deserved milkshake break with some volunteers
(Sr. Teresa is on the left side, center)

Teresa is most certainly undergoing her own transformation as a part of the community at the Monastery of St. Gertrude. By giving up her autonomy, she has become transformed from an “I” to a “we;” from being “alone” to being “all of us.” The community, as she describes it, allows her to do more and become more than she ever could on her own. A naturally quiet and solitary person, the challenges of living with so many people do arise often, and it is through reflection that the transformation occurs for Sr. Teresa to be in her own words, “remade in the image of Christ.”

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Conversing with Krista Green

“Change is good.” How many can actually say this sentence honestly, without sarcasm or clenched teeth? I know that in my own life, the changes that have occurred have been necessary and ultimately good for me, but that does not help me in the midst of the transition, when all I want is to curl up under the covers in my bed and wait for it all to be over. When those days occur, I look to one person here in particular: Krista Green, one of two lay employees working at Spirit Center.

After moving back to her hometown of Grangeville, Krista was contacted by Mary Schmidt, the administrator of Spirit Center. Mary was in need of an assistant, and because of Krista’s previous work experience, she thought Krista was exactly the person for the job. Because she loves to support others, Krista has truly found her niche at the Spirit Center by taking care of the tedious and yet necessary tasks that need to be done. Some examples of this work would be proofreading and taking care of the never ending mailings. One of her primary responsibilities is marketing and she is considered the main writer and photographer for the retreat facility. She also maintains Spirit Center’s Facebook presence. In these ways and more, she truly embodies Benedictine hospitality, helping everyone to feel “warm and fuzzy.” In my own experience, I have gone to Krista more than once about my latest conundrum, ultimately resulting in some of the most profound conversations I have ever had, and I certainly feel warm and fuzzy by being near her.

As the future of the Monastery of St. Gertrude becomes even more uncertain with dwindling vocations, employees and volunteers will be even more critical in the daily functioning of monastic life. Krista has truly felt blessed by her work with the Benedictine community here at St. Gertrude’s, feeling part of the communal mission in making the world a better place. One special gift she brings to this community is her perspective from outside the monastery. Although not a Benedictine sister, Krista has implemented many aspects of the Benedictine way to her own life. She has been affected by her work, and lives a richer and simpler life because of it. As it says in a quote posted on her office wall, “It’s never too late to become a better version of yourself,” and this is the challenge Krista tries to meet every day, and her actions encourage me to see in what ways I too can “become a better version of myself.”

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Sitting with Sr. Sue Ellen

While I was assisting with a retreat this past week, when referring to my help and support the mantra became: “Everyone needs a Sarah!” When reflecting on Sr. Sue Ellen, it seems that this statement still applies – everyone needs a Sue Ellen. Assisting nearly everyone in one way or another, this Benedictine sister helps everything to run smoothly. After retiring from teaching catechism, Sue Ellen was asked to assist in a multitude of areas, most notably with administration and in the development office. Through these two areas, she keeps track of all the birthdays, anniversaries, and other important events and keeps everyone informed of various announcements. Outside of these areas, Sue Ellen helps in the book store and serves on various committees, one of which focuses on relationships with extended members (oblates, benefactors, monastery friends, etc.). Most certainly, maintaining relationships with everyone in these ways is one demonstration of hospitality, a key value of Benedictine spirituality. It is no surprise to me that Sue Ellen is so intimately connected with people after saying that the development office contains her most and least favorite jobs, her favorite simply being the life that the development office has with its remarkable staff. Her least favorite? Sealing envelopes.

Sue Ellen has gained much through being part of this monastic community. She speaks fondly of a time when she was growing up and she prayed to have a sister. “Boy, was my prayer answered!” she says with a laugh. Her religious sisters have become her family, and though not without challenges, she has grown in love for her sisters, inheriting numerous “in-laws,” as she describes the families of the other sisters. While this is a good life to live, there is very real concern about where this community will be in five or ten years. When confronted with this question, Sue Ellen imagines this community will look very different, shifting towards more collaborative effort in conjunction with volunteers and oblates. There is a desire for spirituality, Sue Ellen says, but it does not seem to be lived in the same way as in the past. Some of the sisters here speak of entering the monastery at the very young age of 13 with a dozen or so other girls. In more recent years, however, vocations have slowed down significantly to barely a trickle, suggestive of our shifting world. It is now in times of such uncertainty that the relationships that Sue Ellen diligently maintains becomes of the utmost importance.

Today we celebrate Palm Sunday, during which the Gospel tells of Jesus’ passion and death. Recently I was struck by Simon’s role to help Jesus carry his cross, even at times carrying it for him. This relationship is, in my opinion, what we are all asked to do. Not only are we are responsible for carrying our own crosses, but now and then we are asked to help someone else with their cross. We are challenged to help the most vulnerable of our society, coming together as a global family; brothers and sisters in Christ, if you will. I believe that Sue Ellen has tapped into a fundamental idea in our world: that we all are asked to assist one another. We are not only helping with things that have fallen through the cracks, but we are working together to reunite our world so that there are no longer any cracks, no more separation or division. And one way to do so, as Sr. Sue Ellen demonstrates, is simply by staying connected; staying in touch.

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Sitting with Sr. Carol Ann

It is Mary Oliver in her poem, “The Summer Day,” that said, “What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” For Sr. Carol Ann, it seems that she is continuing to spend her life learning and growing – both in her ministries and herself personally. When Carol Ann returned to the Monastery building in ’89 after working in parishes, she essentially was handed a hodgepodge of tasks to keep busy with during her year home. Now 24 years later, each of her ministries has grown into more than anyone had imagined. Among her primary responsibilities is her coordination of the Social Justice Department and Committee. What started in a file box of accumulated mail has become a thriving part of the monastic community as well as in the greater and even global community. Carol Ann has also taken on the responsibilities as Forest Land Manager, her favorite job, and has become the Certified Operator for the Water System at the Monastery, a job that comes with a lot of pressure (no pun intended). Furthermore, Carol Ann assists in leading the music for the Eucharist celebrations. Needless to say, Carol Ann has filled in with what has been needed, and found her own passions in the process.

While Carol Ann originally came with a background in math and science, her ministry work right from the start has filled different needs. One such need has turned into a great passion, that being the stewardship of the land. In Benedictine-fashion, the question initially arose out of discussion of the best means to care for the land entrusted to the monastic community (1,400 acres, to be more precise). It was clear more knowledge was needed, and at a forest diseases workshop, Carol Ann rediscovered her love for the forest. Since then, she has participated in innumerous workshops, presentations, and educational workshops, and I have yet to have the opportunity to learn first-hand from Carol Ann, Master Forest Steward. It is in this field especially that Carol Ann recognizes both her sacrifices and her gains by becoming a Benedictine sister. Certainly the knowledge and educational opportunities have been some of the most prominent gains, yet this has come at the cost of creating a family. Through two battles with breast cancer, it was more acute to Carol Ann how she sacrificed the unwavering support and love from a potential husband. This did not come into consciousness at the age of 13 when she entered, but today it is quite clear what a significant sacrifice this has been. Even so, Carol Ann has made numerous friends through her forestry work and her other ministries. In my experience, she has lovingly chided me on my clothing color choices. Nevertheless, when I see that faint smile over my latest antic, it is then that I truly see the care that Carol Ann takes with all of creation, including me and my bright green shoes.

The care and hospitality of all creation is one way Carol Ann lives the community mission statement, which says, “Healing Hospitality. Grateful Simplicity. Creative Peacemaking.” Simply put, Carol Ann shared her philosophy as “Care for everything as if it were the sacred vessels of the altar.” To care for everything in such a way takes more effort than just one person can provide. Carol Ann has reminded me that we all need other people, and this community is no exception. As the mean age of this monastic community continues to increase, in order to continue to thrive there will need to be a new acceptance of limits. Part of this will be through the assistance of volunteers, oblates, and staff members, but part of it will also be to trust in God’s will, according to Carol Ann. All of these experiences have continued opportunities for growth, for as Carol Ann has put it, “We won’t stop growing until 10 minutes after we’re dead.” And this, to answer Mary Oliver’s question, is what Sr. Carol Ann is doing with her one wild and precious life.

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: Resolutions

Reason number 40 why it is great to be Catholic: Multiple chances each year to be a better person. Within the sacred calendar, Advent and Lent are both times of reflection and introspection, ultimately in preparation for the coming Christmas and Holy Week celebrations respectively. In the secular calendar, we make resolutions at the New Year, for a new school year, and we even have our resolution of things to do before we die, nicknamed as a “bucket list.” We continuously make resolutions as a means to help ourselves in some way, ultimately striving to become a better person. Here we are yet again at a recent time of resolution-making during this Lenten season.

During Lent, the continuous question one might hear is, “What are you giving up for Lent?” The idea of atonement and preparation for Easter seems to have been boiled down into not eating meat on Fridays and choosing not to eat candy. For me, something seems to be missing if this is what the tradition is about. In contrast, let me reflect on the beginning of Lent, Ash Wednesday. A paradox seems to occur between the Gospel reading and the Ash Wednesday ceremony. In the reading (Matthew 6:1-6, 16-18), Jesus warns the disciples repeatedly against proclaiming of their “righteous deeds, almsgiving, prayer or fasting,” advocating instead for the reward that comes from “the Father who sees what is hidden.” The paradox arises when, as soon as this reading is read, each individual is marked with an ashen cross on their forehead, a quite prominent display of one’s “piety.” The purpose is not to be ostentatious, however, but instead to be a simple reminder of mortality. Commonly, the phrase that accompanies this symbol is, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” representative of the belief of creation from and our return to ashes in death. Never before has this message been so clearly evident for me as it has this year.

A rose is now what  I see when I peer beyond the prayer book.

Less than 24 hours after our Ash Wednesday ceremony, Sr. Mary Bernard Leiser died suddenly from a stroke. If the symbolism was not enough, the fragility and mortality of our lives has just been made clear with this loss, and the hole of shock and pain is only just barely beginning to heal. I still imagine seeing her in the halls or with her yellow rubber gloves scrubbing dishes before everyone else has arrived. If I had known what was coming, would I have done things differently? Said something more meaningful? Ultimately, though, is the reality that nothing that is past can be changed, and our resolutions are a means to change our future. Resolutions are our ways to continually reflect on our lives, implementing changes for growth and self-discovery.

My favorite hymn on Ash Wednesday is “Ashes” by Tom Conry because of the beautiful Lenten invitation as described in the lyrics. The following lines are the first two verses of this hymn:

We rise again from ashes,
from the good we’ve failed to do.
We rise again from ashes,
to create ourselves anew.
If all our world is ashes,
then must our lives be true,
an offering of ashes, an offering to you.

We offer you our failures,
we offer you attempts,
the gifts not fully given,
the dreams not fully dreamt.
Give our stumblings direction,
give our visions wider view,
an offering of ashes, an offering to you.

Although there is no real refrain, the one line that continuously returns at the end of each of the four verses is, “an offering of ashes, an offering to you.” Essentially, I believe this is what we are each called to during Lent: to give an offering of ‘ashes’ to God. The composer goes on to describe what “an offering of ashes” is in the second verse, listing “failures… attempts… gifts not fully given… dreams not fully dreamt.” In stark contrast to many Biblical stories that refer to offerings as prized possessions, it seems that “an offering of ashes” would be aspects of ourselves that which we might be ashamed. Whenever we share anything of ourselves, more often than not we attempt to only share the best of ourselves. Recently, I have interviewed with several graduate schools, and this situation demands me to only share and highlight my greatest attributes. I found myself highly aware of those aspects of my personality that would be some of my greatest assets during the interview: being cordial, friendly, polite, articulate, and confident. This would not be a time to intimately discuss my fears, apprehensions and self-doubts.

While it may seem petty to compare a school interview to God, this seems the best way to highlight the distinction of God’s compassion. If we can humble ourselves enough to share our failings, faults, and attempts, we are instantly being more real than any offering of monetary wealth. To close, one of my Lenten resolutions is to give “an offering of ashes,” to be honest and mindful of myself and what I do. In doing so, I hope that I may truly “rise again from ashes to create [myself] anew.”

Peering Beyond the Prayer Book: The Call

There are certainly no prairies in New York.

Over the course of my time here at the Monastery of St. Gertrude’s, I have repeatedly heard that to seek God alone above all else is a call to monasticism. While I have spent time pondering this thought, I have also been in the process of applying to graduate schools, not for anything based in religion or theology but instead for musicology. How is it that a prospective music professor from Upstate New York ends up at a monastery in the middle of nowhere, thousands of miles away from her friends and family? The only answer I can honestly give is that I was called. I do not mean that God or anything like that picked up the telephone, dialed my number, and left me a voicemail saying that I should go to Idaho; nothing quite that dramatic. I do, however, believe there is something that draws you, me, and all of us to certain things in our lives. That may be the voice of God, but in more secular terms, I believe it is simply this desire to be part of something greater than our selves.

What sparked this idea for me originally came from answering the question of why I was here. Many guests I have met have asked if I am interested in becoming a nun. While evidence would make this a logical conclusion, I find myself firmly saying, “No.” When reflecting on my reasoning, why I don’t want to be a nun, it seems that as much as there is a call to religious life, so do I feel called away from religious life. The call, for me, is to something else, somewhere else.

Maybe I'm called to live in the bustling city of Denver

This concept of the call was confirmed for me during a recent trip to Denver. One opportunity I had while there was to visit a potential school and meet the musicology faculty. After giving the “nutshell” version of what I have been doing since my undergraduate graduation, one of the professors commented about how the call to musicology seems similar to the call to monasticism. Immediately, the parallel use of “the call” resonated with me, attesting to the truth of the draw for each of us as individuals. What draws me to musicology, I believe, is the same draw to religious life; the same draw that an allergist, a mechanic, a trapeze artist, a zookeeper, etc. all feel towards their ultimate career goals. When I brought up this subject with a friend, he reminded me that this call is not limited to career choice. We are called in our lives, throughout our whole life. I can speak to my own experience of the call I felt at different points in my life. As a child, my call was to do well in school, respect my parents, and play nice with my brother and sister. My college career was answering the call to study music. After college, I felt called to a year of service, and now I have been called here to Cottonwood, ID. My friends have been called to other things, such as the armed forces, marriage, or parenthood. We are all responding to this call in whatever ways we can, ultimately answering the call of God or whatever higher power to live fully; to truly become who we already are.

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, / I took the one less traveled by, / and that has made all the difference." - from Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken"

So this time I leave you with a question (or several questions). What is your call? Where and to what are you being called? How are you answering your call?

A post-script thought: The last time I saw my boyfriend, when he was handing me my things, he slipped me a card that said, “Through you, God’s love is shown.” Maybe I really am seeking God above all else.