A Constant Companion

I remember well when I first moved as a monk. I had just finished my novitiate, had made my temporal vows, and had spent some time working in the Abbey’s guest kitchen, school, and archives. My next step was to begin the studies of philosophy and theology in Würzburg, just 15 miles away, but still far enough away to let me feel sadness because I had to leave the monastery and community I had chosen to be my home. As monks, we feel deeply connected with the place where we live, having taken the vow of “stability”. And here I was, I couldn’t stay but had to move on. In this situation, as so often, I found comfort in our liturgy:

HE is before all things. By HIM all things consist. (Col 1:17)

These words struck me. Jesus is the one who lasts no matter what changes happen to me or around me. So I wrote this sentence on a small piece of paper, in Latin, because it made sense to me – it was a deeper way to express my longing for stability: Omnia in ipso constant – by Him all things consist. In my new room, I put this little piece of paper on my desk, and looking at it, I knew I was at home.

Little did I know that as a Missionary Benedictine I had to move more often. After five years, I moved back to the Abbey. After three more years as teacher, I was granted to work on my doctorate in Tübingen. The little piece of paper went with me. It had become a bit feeble. I loved that this continuity was written on a fragile piece of paper. To hold on to Jesus is not a heroic act, but a humble, weak, longing, seeking, attempt to be with the one who never changes. Certainly, it went with me to America six years ago. This time I forgot to put it on my desk, maybe because I had learned to internalize its truth.

At this moment, I find myself at a new calling in Italy. I will begin to serve as Prior of Sant’Anselmo Abbey in Rome shortly. While packing, the little piece of paper fell into my hands again, and I was delighted. The writing has faded, one can hardly read it. I share this with all those of you who are undergoing changes, wanted or not wanted, and are seeking for a foothold. Here He is: “In HIM all things consist.” HE has been there before; even before things that could change existed.

Dear Lord, let me return to you, over and over again. When serious changes happen in my life, or even if nothing seems to change, you always stand. Let me stand by you. It is safe ground, peaceful, hopeful. Wherever you are, there is home. Thank you very much, dear Lord.

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Loosen Our Knees

They called it CPM machine, for me it was rather a torture tool. Though years ago, I still vividly remember how I lying in the hospital bed after a knee surgery, was suffering under this machine that tried to automatically conquer inch by inch in order to make my knee bend again. Finally I had to smile when in my prayers I ran across the hymn in Philippians:

At the name of Jesus every knee will bend.

So, eventually mine, too! To be able to bend our knees is a grace. I believe that God unlike this machine does not want to forcefully bend our knees, “bring us to our knees”. He has no need for that. We go to our knees as we realize how mighty He is and – in comparison with him – how small we are. We even more come to our knees as we understand that this mighty God became human, and small, and humble.

Because Christ humbled himself, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee will bend. (Phil 2:9-10)

Have you ever become aware of how you stand? We can stand in two ways: either with fully stretched knees or with a little leeway in our knees. To stand with fully stretched knees is not only unhealthy for the ligaments as I learnt from my doctors, but also an expression of “I hold on to myself”, “I only trust myself”. Sometimes we do it in a defiant way, asserting ourselves. We have more stability though, if we stand giving in – just a little bit – in our knees. We are more flexible and at the same time more stable. This is not a sign of going weak at our knees. It is a question of trust: whom do I trust? Only myself? Or the one who is greater and holds me carefully and lovingly in his hand. We don’t have to be on our knees all the time, it is enough to give in in our knees, just a little bit.

Lord, I trust that you hold me, wherever I go or stand. You are the ground that carries me, you are the heaven opening over me. You are the space that surrounds me. You want me as a free person, standing on my own feet. For this I am deeply grateful. I thank you for Jesus who has shown us this our dignity. I humbly bow and bend my knees before you as I realize this greatness you have planted in me, through Jesus Christ.

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The monk Jerome in the wilderness, by a follower of Pietro Perugino (1490). The lion of self-assertion sits peacefully aside the saint.