There's been a distinct shift from summer to fall this past week - some days are still hot. Eighty-one the other day. But nights are very cool - and mornings are crisp and chilly. The leaves are starting to turn. They say it'll be a short foliage season this year because of the long summer drought. But it's turning out to be spectacular!
So let me tell you about my Sunday at Visitation Monastery
in the Monastic Immersion Experience:
Morning prayer is at 8:30 on Sundays (7 AM M-F, 8 on Saturday). I love going to Morning Prayer. Our two houses are only a block apart, so it takes very little time to transition from Girard to Fremont where we have Morning Prayer.
By the time I got to the kitchen this morning, I could hear the little gong signaling that it was time to begin. Sister Mary Frances was already playing a prelude on the little organ in the chapel when I got there.
We all stop at the shelves and pick up our books - finding my way through the office books is still a challenge for me, but today was just a regular Sunday - Week 2 in the 4 week rotation of psalms. The chapel is tiny. There's room for just the six chairs, a bench across the back where Sister Mary Frances sits at the organ, and the beautiful cruciform Christ backed by the stained glass window. (The window was made deliberately transparent, so we can see out to the street and the intersection of Fremont and 15th. What happens outside those windows is meant to be part of our prayer.)
We each have our assigned chair. I am tucked in between Sisters Mary Virginia and Mary Margaret on the outside wall. Across from me are Sisters Katherine, Karen, and Suzanne. Our Chinese Sister-in-Residence, Mary Mau and our VIP Intern Anna sit on the bench on either side of Mary Frances.
The Sacrament is reserved in our chapel, so each sister makes a profound bow in that direction as she enters. The routine has become familiar - and my heart always leaps for joy when I take my place.
Because I have a condition called Sjogrens, my vocal cords don't work well, so I try hard not to compromise the sound of singing and chanting by sneaking my thin, creaky voice in between those on either side of me as the two sides sing antiphonally. I find that I am always happy when my favorite psalm passages happen to occur when it's "my side's turn." Strange thing to be made happy by something so simple.
Each week, different sisters are assigned different roles in celebrating the Divine Office. I haven't quite figured out what each one actually does, but it's second nature to them: there is a chantress, a reader, an office planner (who picks the hymns?) and an officiant. I don't have any of these roles; I just have to try to keep my place, be on the right page, and join in when it's "our turn." And keep my voice "invisible."
Sometimes visitors are with us. There weren't any this morning. I look at the figure of Christ and the glorious window. I look at the vase of flowers placed at the foot of Christ. And I look at the feet of the sisters, and I think, "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those who bring good tidings . . . "
The Divine Office is very simple: In morning, mid-day, and evening there are three psalms, each with its own antiphon. We all sing the antiphon. One sister sings the opening two lines of the first stanza, the rest of those on her side chime in with the rest. The next stanza is sung by the those of us in the other choir, like playing tennis with our voices - and then the antiphon. Then there is a pause and we are free to speak of something that has to do with the psalm or the reading or with our life in the neighborhood.
Today some shared thoughts on the workshop we went to last night at the Basilica on Faithful Citizenship; it was taught by Father Michael Joncas (the writer of many of my favorite songs, including On Eagles' Wings) and reviewed the pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops on how we Catholics should form our consciences when preparing to vote. And, to my surprise, it was an amazingly helpful and illuminating evening for all of us. He laid out the principles so clearly - and made so clear that once we'd moved through those steps, we each had to consult our own consciences and make a determination based upon our own prudential judgment as to how to mark our ballots. No one - not even the bishops, not even the pope - can violate the sanctity of the individual conscience. The consistent teaching of the church has been that one is obliged to act by his or her own conscience - even if that conscience may be in error! What a great thing to hear that articulated so clearly once more.
Then the organ began and we sang the next antiphon, and chanted the next psalm. And again paused to talk briefly about the things that have happened in the neighborhood in the past few days: a terrible massacre at a business only a mile from here where six people were killed and two more lie in hospital in mortal danger; a fight where homeless people hang out behind the local supermarket where a man was stabbed to death. And a dear friend awaiting news as to whether her chemo is going to save her life.
And then the next antiphon, the next psalm. After that there was a reading from scripture. Then we sang a response. And then we sang the antiphon for the Canticle of Zechariah which is sung every morning. And then there was a dismissal.
After Morning Office, we always put our books back in our baskets on the shelf and gather in a little circle in the front hall. As soon as all are present, we bow to one another, saying in unison,
God be praised! Good morning, dear Sisters!
The first time I saw this happen, last summer when I visited, I was filled with a stab of pure delight! I said inside myself,
I love this! Why do I love this? And every day I have been here since, I am delighted once more. I feel the love of these people for one another that has been tempered over the years, and I am glad to share in it. Then we share announcements for the day, special requests and concerns (has anyone seen my lost green sock?), who has the car signed out for when? and so forth.
As soon as our morning "meeting" was finished, we piled into the van and headed for Ascension church for Sunday mass. Sister Mary Mau and Sister Mary Frances decided to walk - it's only about three or four blocks. They actually beat us there. I found my favorite spot down by the music group, and settled in. Mary Mau and Virginia joined me in that pew. I like to watch the musicians - and I wanted a good vantage point for taking a few more pictures.
My favorite musician is Pedro. I think he's about 10 years old, and quite a good musician. I love to watch him taking his role so seriously among the adults there.
Sr. Mary and Sr. Mary Virginia joined me in my pew:
Father Michael O'Connell delivered the homily today. He was grim. He spoke about the violence in the neighborhood the past week: the massacre, the knifing. And
some of the other tragedies of the past few months. A three-year old whose family rule is that if you hear gun-shots while you are at dinner, you take your plate upstairs where there's an interior room that will be safe. A gunshot tore through the wall of his house and killed him on the stairs. A short time later, a five year old, asleep on his grandmother's sofa was killed when his house was riddled with bullets from an automatic rifle. A short time later a homeless man was accosted one night on the sidewalk outside the church by a gang of young people and beaten to death. Father Michael told us that there were special sensors posted on power-poles throughout the city. They record all instances of gunfire and can be used to triangulate and find the source of the shooting. In 2011, there were more than 800 shots fired in our neighborhood.
Father Michael told us that at the conclusion of the service, after we had blessed the children of the parish, we would all process down the street to the site where the homeless man was knifed, and we would hold a prayer service there. So out we went to the closing song, out the front door and down the sidewalk, servers leading the way, carrying the processional cross, Father Michael and Patty Stromen leading the way.
Then we returned home. Four sisters live in each of our houses. I live in Girard. There were only three of us home for breakfast. Sister Karen has been out of town at a meeting of the Visitation Federation in Washington, DC. So Sister Mary Frances fried bacon and eggs for our breakfast, and we made some toast and shared our meal at the dining table while reading the Sunday
New York Times.
Afterward, Mary Frances and I helped clean up after breakfast while Mary Virginia made a pecan pie for dinner tonight. Then we all went about our own affairs. I worked on my messy desk for a while. (Yes, it followed me all the way here from Forks!)
And then I went out to take a walk. I decided I wanted some pictures of the newly turned foliage before it is gone. They say we have another week of this gentle autumn weather and then it will turn cold and blustery. I walked all over the neighborhood. I met people I knew here and there - and was glad to share in the general good will that the sisters have earned in the neighborhood. It was a beautiful day.
And now I am working on this blog, downloading my pictures, and trying to get those stacks of paper organized and put away. I'm going out in an hour or so to a performance of Mexican music and dance with Anna. Some of the other sisters went to the show last night while I was at the workshop on Faithful Citizenship with the rest. So we'll miss Evening Prayer at 5 PM. That's when the show starts. We have the car checked out (and Anna will drive! I'm not very comfortable driving at night - nor driving the Prius). We'll miss dinner, too, but we'll warm ours up in the microwave when we return.
And I've just remembered! I must save time before I leave to set the table for dinner. That's one of my responsibilities -
Later . . .
Anna and I went to
Celebremos MEXICO! a program of music and dance presented by my friends Sevaro and Melina Garcia as "a way of sharing the culture and heritage of Mexico with the community."
And then back to Girard to find the other sisters all deeply engaged in a game arond the dining table. Today is the beginning of the Moon Festival - a mid-autumn festival in China, so they were playing Sr. Mary Mau's favorite game, Spinner dominoes, between dinner and night prayer. I warmed up my dinner and ate it as I watched the game conclude.
Then upstairs to our little Girard chapel for Night Prayer which is very brief: one psalm, a responsorial, and the Canticle of Simeon.
We sing,
Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake;
watch over us as we sleep,
that awake, we may keep watch with Christ,
and asleep rest in his peace.
Lord, now you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled . . .
(the prayer of Simeon upon seeing the infant Jesus presented in the
temple . . .) then a closing prayer ending every night with these words:
May the all-powerful Lord grant us a restful night and a peaceful death.
Amen.
Then we sang the refrain of
Gentle Woman and finished as always with a short litany of saints.
A few sisters went downstairs to catch the 9 o'clock news. The Fremont folk went back to the other house. And I came up to finish this blog.
It's a simple life here. I've just finished my third month. I'm half way through my stay here. I love every day. Every moment.
(Note: these blogs do not necessarily occur in chronological order.
Let us build a house where prophets speak,
Let us build a house where love is found
Let us build a house where hands will reach 
