Ebb and Flow

The tide comes in and the tide goes out. That’s the nature of the sea. It’s also a good metaphor for the way I live my faith.

As I look back over the years, I can trace a constancy of commitment to my search for God. On the inside, that has remained consistent; however, it doesn’t always look the same from the outside. The sea of faith is always there and I’m always somewhere on it, trying to set a course for home (God), but there’s also the push or pull of the tide which changes the way I steer and navigate.

When I entered the monastery, it was with the expectation that now I’d found the absolutely right way to take the quickest route to God. It was quite unsettling as it slowly dawned on me that I was still at sea and my faith and its expression would still ebb and flow.

At first, I was very diligent (and somewhat self-righteous) about having a perfect attendance at community prayers and Mass. I was so sure the Benedictine way was right for me; I wanted to be a good nun and make the most of this newly-found straight course.

Imagine the consternation when the boat started to leak and the seas became unpredictable! I found that, helpful as community prayer can be, it started to feel as if it was taking the place of personal prayer and that God, as a living, active presence in my life, was drifting further away.

Having spent ten years as a professed sister, I’ve become comfortable with the realization that I can’t sit back and think I’ve found the perfect way and will never have to make any adjustments again. A lifelong commitment to seeking God means a willingness to keep reflecting, working out what’s best at this point in my journey. Right now, I’m not at community prayers quite as often as I once was, though I recognize that part of choosing the monastic path means participating in community prayer. When I am there, I am fully present. I’m happy about that because it’s a way of prioritizing quality over mere quantity.

Paying attention to my own needs and listening to where I hear the Spirit call me has also made me less critical of others and more willing to trust my sisters. If someone isn’t at prayer, I work from the assumption that she has a good reason, not that she can’t be bothered. This seems to me a good lesson about living in community: I don’t always know best and I don’t always know what’s happening in someone else’s life. What I do know is that I’m part of a community of women in which each and every one has committed herself to the Benedictine, monastic path and that is enough to merit my trust and respect.

 

Karen Rose, OSB

Inside Community

Before I entered the monastery and lived in community, I thought I knew what it would be like. I’d lived a life where trying to nurture my inner self and my relationship with God was always significant. I thought living in community would be like that, but more intense, and surrounded by people who were all doing the same thing, which would make it easier.

As I approach the tenth anniversary of profession, I realize that it took me awhile to understand that the living in community itself was at the heart of the monastic experience. It’s the place where you are honed and being honed isn’t always comfortable. I learned that you can feel really drawn to the Rule of Benedict, that you can nurture your spirituality through Benedict’s wisdom and that you can adapt Benedictine principles to your way of life and your working situation, all of which is very worthwhile, but the full monastic experience, as envisaged by Benedict, is incomplete if you don’t live it out in community.

Living in community is a 24/7 commitment. I soon realized that although we are all seeking God, we don’t all start at the same point; we have different family and life experiences and different interests and different approaches to the world. In other words, we are all individuals. We wouldn’t necessarily choose the others to be our life-companions, yet we have to make things work. I believe it’s this endeavor to persevere and create a loving, monastic community, in the face of not-very-good odds, which is a primary witness to the Gospel value of loving our neighbors, whoever they are. We live in close proximity to one another, we have to make decisions about our future together, all in a context of trying to reconcile women who may be very different. Unlike in a marriage, where there is one other person, there are scores of us and we didn’t choose one another; God chose us.

We don’t always manage to do things in an ideal way. Living inside community means I had to let go of the notion that a monastery is a place of peace, where nothing ruffles the tranquility. I learned that the surface may be placid and exude calm when you pay a short visit, but underneath it’s a very real life where we have to deal with conflict and difference and accept that we are not always very good at it. I think, though, it’s the fact that we’re not always very good at it that makes it worthwhile. It’s a real challenge to have to live with others, to disagree and yet know that in order to fulfill our calling we somehow have to rise again, after every knock, and make it work.

 

Karen Rose, OSB                                                                          March 22, 2019

 

Inside the Job

I have the best team of workers anyone could wish for. There are 11 of us (some full-time, most part-time) who work directly in the mission advancement department and several others who provide help with specific projects. Most are sisters, plus two employees and a volunteer. No one is perfect and I’m not claiming we never make mistakes, but I know that each and every one always strives to do her best. Each has her own area of expertise and I have complete confidence in their dedication and ability to do a great job. This makes my job as director much easier than it would be if I had to keep checking up on whether things were getting done.

So, given that I’m freed to think about the bigger picture, what do I do? I have certain basic tasks, connecting with donors, doing some writing (e.g. this blog), going to meetings, dealing with queries, liaising with the press, reporting back to our leadership, etc. Beyond that, there is the strategic stuff. I’m not particularly target-driven or goal-oriented. I tend to be a person who seizes ideas and opportunities as they occur and runs with them. I love it when things succeed, but I’m aware that if you try new things they won’t all work out and I’m comfortable taking the risk. It has to be a calculated risk and the probability fairly that high that things will go well, but I believe it’s important not miss opportunities because of excessive caution. Okay, there’s my management strategy in a nutshell.

How does all this fit with my monastic life? Being a sister is a whole person commitment. It’s not on the cards to say that Monday to Friday, 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m., the monastic journey is suspended. So how does that look in a busy work environment?  And believe me, it is busy. We are not floating around all day on a reflective cloud, taking the odd phone call and typing the odd letter.

I think the answer to the question is “love.” Love is at the heart of the Gospel and the heart of the Rule of Benedict. In the workplace, this means that underpinning all our work is love for one another, for the community whom we serve and represent to the world, and for the people with whom we connect. We pray for those who ask for our prayers with love and concern. We love our donors, not because they give us money, but because they are neighbors and friends crossing our path right now; they are the people to whom God is giving us the opportunity to show Christ’s face. We put out our social media posts in the loving hope that something we say is going to inspire someone or help them get through the day.

To do our job effectively and authentically, we have to see one another not just as co-workers. We share one another’s joys and sorrows. We are people with a common purpose. At the root of that purpose is sharing a message of love to the world. It would be a hollow message if we didn’t show genuine love and concern for one another, the sisters in our community and the people whom we seek to serve.

Karen Rose, OSB

On the Job

When I first graduated from college with a degree in philosophy and theology, my aspiration was to save the world. I started small as a nurse’s aide in a hospice, a period intended to give me some practical experience of solving the problems of a small section of suffering humanity while I thought about how to reach the rest of the globe. (FYI: I am still thinking!)

The endeavor proved more difficult than I anticipated and, over the years, I narrowed my focus, while still keeping in mind that the job I did should always be concerned with helping people. I spent about 25 years working in healthcare, either in clinical practice or research.

Here at the monastery, I made a distinct career change or, more accurately, I should say that in consultation with the prioress a new path was presented to me. After I first professed in 2009, I started to work in the monastery’s development and communications office. My role in the office has changed over the years, and the name of the department has changed to mission advancement, but basically I’m in my 10th year of service in this area.

Now, in the outside world, I would not be an obvious choice for fundraising work because I don’t like asking people for money and I’m not terribly interested in finances. As long as I have enough to eat and a warm bed to sleep in for about the next month, I’m prone to think that tomorrow will take care of itself. One of my favorite scripture passages is: “Consider the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin…therefore, take no heed for the morrow, for the morrow has troubles enough of its own.” However, the prioress, presumably with the guidance of the Spirit, thinks I’m suitable for the job, so here I am doing it.

The communications part is fine. I love reaching out to share our life and our message with people through our magazines, website, social media, etc. I’m so glad that I’m part of a team providing reflective, spiritual moments in people’s days and that we provide ways for them to connect with us to ask for prayers.

The thorny issue is the fundraising. It is undoubtedly a challenge for me, but, like many challenges, it has genuinely been a source of growth. Sister Gen Maiers, who was director of the department before me, used to remind me that I have given my life to this monastery and the Rule of Benedict. If I think it’s worth that much, then why would I not think people might want to partner with us, including giving money, to support our mission and ministries? That definitely helps.

The longer I’ve been here, the more I see communications and fundraising as being intertwined. I’m fortunate that I have never been asked to raise money for the sake of raking it in. We ask when we need and most of that need is to ensure that we can continue ministries that reach out to others. I’ve also realized that if you have a message (we do: basically a message of peace, love, prayer and the importance of community) and you believe in that message, then you want to share it because you know it’s a way to make the world a better place. When you share it, you find there are many people out there who believe in the same message and actively want to give their support, often with a gift of money, but also time and prayer. It doesn’t feel like a business transaction or taking from someone. It feels like people finding one another and coming together to make good things happen.

Karen Rose, OSB                                                            March 8, 2019

Extreme Living

Some years ago, when I first read Michael Casey’s book on monastic living, The Unexciting Life, the blurb on the back contained a phrase about monastic life being exotic but unexciting. The phrase and, indeed, the whole book, has provided a source of reflection for me ever since.

A monastery isn’t exactly the place you think of when you are picturing somewhere exotic—palm trees, sun, sand, blue sea and dancers in hula skirts! What makes it exotic is the way we live. There are around 200 Sisters of Saint Benedict. We range in age from 31–103. We come from different backgrounds, cities and countries, yet we choose to live together for one simple reason: the pursuit of God through living under the Rule of St. Benedict. That's an extreme choice, so you could describe it as exotic, in the sense that it's not usual.

We are all adults, but we don’t have our own homes, our own bank accounts or our own cars. We don’t even have control of our lives because we live under obedience to the prioress and to one another. The prioress does not assume the role of a dictator, because we are all freely choosing to live in this way. She takes account of the opinions of the community and cares about sisters as individuals. Nevertheless, as professed sisters, we all understand that we have given up control of our lives. This is extreme living, exotic living.

Despite all our differences of taste and temperament, we choose to live together as a community. We believe, as St. Benedict tells us, that we go to God together. That doesn’t mean we become unthinking automatons. Our aim is unity, not uniformity, and our commitment, as I see it, is more about helping each sister to build the framework of life which helps each one in her search for God. It’s about caring for one another and being sensitive to the needs of the other.

Really, this is quite a tall order. It is not easy and it is not exciting. It can be a daily grind. We rub against one another and we’re not always kind. As in many walks of life, we have an ideal and, as humans, we often fall short of the ideal. Monastic living means that when we fall short, we are committed to getting up and trying again, whatever that takes. And always, always, always, the falling and the rising are lived out in community, which carries the need to consider not myself and one or two other people, but myself and 199 other persons. A different way to live? An exotic way to live? I would say, “Yes!”

Karen Rose, OSB                                                                March 1, 2019

It's Not About the Clothes

When I realized that I was called to monastic life, the last thing on my mind was the effect that would have on my wardrobe! That’s as it should be, so it came as quite a shock to me how strongly some people feel about what sisters wear.

I’ll give a little historical detail to begin with: When our founding sisters reached Central Minnesota in 1857, they wore a traditional habit with full veil. With few modifications, sisters wore that until the Second Vatican Council asked religious orders to go back to their roots, find the heart of their tradition and work on ways to express that authentically in the late 20^th century. It was during this period that a decision was taken to allow sisters to experiment. Some retained their habit, some modified it and, eventually, some did as St. Benedict suggests in the Rule and began to wear clothing that is from the locality. Essentially, this meant they wore ordinary clothes. By the time I entered in 2007, most sisters had given up the habit and new entrants did not have the option of adopting it.

None of this was a big deal for me. I wanted to seek God. I didn’t (and don’t) care much what I wear while I’m doing that. I don’t think God cares either. God is more concerned with what is in our hearts than with our clothes. It has, therefore, quite shocked me that, at times, people will truly attack us for not wearing a habit, as if the clothes are the only thing count. It saddens me that kindness, love for God and our neighbor and a genuine desire to seek God seem to count for nothing against what we wear.

Having said that, I would be less than honest if I didn’t confess that what I wear is a definite part of my monastic journey and the search for God. I have always liked clothes. I had a mother who dressed well and liked clothes and a father who was never backward at complimenting my mother on how she looked. Clothes mattered in my family, but more in the sense of creating an attractive atmosphere in which to live, rather than being the thing that defined you.

When I came to the monastery, I was comfortable with my own style and, happily, I didn’t need to make much adjustment in what I wear. As a sister, you obviously have to be quite modest in dress. You don’t want to look as if you are trying to attract a mate but that doesn’t mean you have to look a frumpy mess all the time! I wasn’t required to alter my style especially but I’ve found over the years that I want to. Considering occasionally what does and doesn’t feel right to wear, and why, has become part of my monastic journey.

I think my endeavors are based on trying to simplify. Over the years, I’ve noticed that I wear fewer trinkets. At one time, I often used to wear a cross. Now I don’t. I wear my profession ring and earrings but I’m noticing that the earrings are getting smaller and less noticeable. At the same time, I find I can take pleasure in seeing someone else look dressed up. I don’t think there is anything wrong with it. I don’t have a desire to make everyone be the same. We are individuals, making our own way to God, and some of our uniqueness shows in our clothes choices. That’s fine!

Something that really pleases me is that I think clothing is an area where I have truly become less judgmental. Living with my sisters, who display a wide range of clothing preferences, I’ve realized that love, kindness and faith are not modified in any way by the clothes you choose. That’s really freeing. I feel called to simplify many parts of my life. I feel I need to cut away distractions and “extras” in many areas, including what I wear. I accept that others sisters may not feel that need in the same way, yet God loves each of us equally.

This is how I’d sum up the clothes quandary: My clothes choices can help me in my journey toward God, but the journey isn’t dictated by the clothes.

Karen Rose, OSB                                                 February 22, 2019

Peace and Love: Part 2

“Never turn away when someone needs your love.” Rule of Benedict (Chapter 4)

There was a time in monastic life when sisters were very restricted as to how often they could visit their family, “particular friendships” within the monastery were discouraged (i.e., there were no BFFs) and sisters didn’t make friends outside the monastery. I wasn’t a sister at the time but, as I see it, there was a rationale there. It was the idea that by committing to religious life you gave up everything so that you could focus entirely on following Christ with no distractions.

However, sisters move with the times and there is a softer approach now which recognizes that, as humans, we need connections with other people; we need to love and be loved. How that’s lived out varies from monastery to monastery and how we live may look different from how it did in the past, but I think underlying our life and our approach to relationships is still the belief that Christ comes first and that expressions of love and care toward others are part of how we follow the Gospel and Benedictine path of loving.

How does that pan out in daily life? Well, we are encouraged to maintain family relationships and close friendships and it’s fine to have friends outside the monastery. However, I find that it’s quite complex to keep a balance here. For instance, major religious feasts call me to be with my community. What are we if we don’t celebrate Easter and Christmas together?  Yet it’s a real tug at the heart to be absent from people with whom I have lifelong connections and also to have to live with the knowledge that I spoiled other people’s Christmases by coming here. Yet, I truly want to be with my monastic community because these times are part of the cement that bonds us together as monastics and differentiate us from a group of women simply choosing to live together.

Another significant lesson I have learned is that there are some people, including sisters, you like and naturally feel drawn to and, actually, that’s okay. These people will be your friends, the people with whom you recreate. However, community doesn’t work if you focus solely one person. You have to be open to others and you have to care about each and every one, whether or not you see them as chums. You can be close, but you can’t be exclusive. I learned that you can’t choose who you like, but can choose to be generous with your love and at least try to include everyone.

This brings me to celibacy. Celibacy is included in the monastic promise of “fidelity to the monastic way of life.” I think this is probably something that each person handles differently. For me, the challenge is that it’s hard to give up that one-to-one relationship, the specialness of joining yourself with one other person. I love the theory of sharing my love equally with sisters, of channeling to the whole world the energy that would usually go into the one primary relationship, but it’s one of those things that sounds aspirational in theory and turns out to be very difficult in practice. I guess, though, that’s one of the points of monastic life: challenge yourself to be greater than you are, try to want what’s best for others and just keep going along the particular path you have chosen.

 

Karen Rose, OSB                                               February 8, 2019