February 2009
Vol. XXX, No. 2

Dear Oblates and Friends of Portsmouth,

          In the Sunday liturgy the second reading and the lessons of weekday masses are frequently taken from one of Saint Paul's epistles to the churches or to trusted disciples whom he had appointed bishops.  Because they address issues still topical and provide us with ever fresh insights into theological and spiritual matters of our faith, these letters encourage us either to live better moral lives as followers of Jesus or teach us about such fundamental doctrines as Christ's mystical Body, the power of grace, the importance and limitations of free will, as well as of our obligations to our neighbor, our community and our church.  A phrase Paul sometimes uses has special resonance with us who live today as he speaks of trying to please all in any way he can.  Please yourself is an expression often used in England.  But Paul urges us to do just the opposite: to forget ourselves in preference to considering the needs or welfare of others.  And the more we practice this selflessness the nearer we approach the example of Paul and by extension Jesus himself, the supreme altruist.

          Winter is a time when we are afflicted by all sorts of maladies.  At times these can be serious, even life-threatening, but more often they are simply the common cold or related ills, causes of discomfort to be sure, but usually only temporary, although unpleasant enough to make us appreciate our normal state of health.  For the Jews of the time of Jesus sickness and misfortune were viewed as punishments visited by God on his people as means of keeping them in line and incentives for them to repent of their faults. The Book of Job helps show how erroneous this concept of suffering is, but many of us still cling to the idea that God must be punishing us when we experience misfortune or ill health, and by examining our conscience, we can readily find reasons why we may deserve to suffer.  An exasperated parent might be led to exclaim to a mischievous child, God will punish you for doing that.  Not the best way to present the God, who is a kind and merciful father.  But suffering can seem meaningless and at odds with the concept of a benevolent God, slow to anger and rich in mercy, whose providential care embraces everyone equally.  "Suffering," as Somerset Maugham once observed, "can ennoble, but more often it tends to embitter."  Examples of addressing misfortune in a positive way, however, readily come to mind:  Helen Keller's heroic response to her blindness, deafness and inability to speak and communicate with others until her "miraculous" breakthrough wrought by her teacher, Ann Sullivan, is an inspiring example of patience, courage and determination on the part of both pupil and mentor.

              Another way of reacting to suffering can be found in the masterpiece of the sixteenth century German artist, Grunewald, the so-called Eisenheim Crucifixion, which was commissioned for a chapel in a hospital for those afflicted by a particularly loathsome and painful disease, claiming thousands of victims.  Jesus is pictured not only in agony on the cross, but scarred with the same disease as those being treated in the hospital.  On one side of the crucified Christ is Saint Sebastian, being tortured to death by arrows piercing his whole body while on the opposite panel Saint Anthony is undergoing a spiritual struggle, no less frightful, with a crowd of devils and demons, seeking to capture his soul through physical torment, as he exclaims, "Where were you, good Jesus, where were you? And why did you not come and dress my wounds?"

          The patients in the hospital must have readily identified with these two saints who underwent torments similar to and surpassing their own.   Like Anthony, they, too, must have felt at times deserted by God, echoing the cry of Jesus in his agony on the Cross, as he prayed the opening words of Psalm 22, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"   They must have questioned the purpose in the divine plan for pains they were undergoing and that reduced them to despair.  That is, until they contemplated the central panel of Grunewald's painting and could see the God-man suffering just as they were.   The body of Jesus was covered with the same sores that afflicted them; his face reflected their torment; his misshapen figure mirrored their contorted limbs.  For them, the lesson was plain; they were not deserted, since Jesus was in their midst, not only suffering with them, but for them.  He was the suffering servant, the symbol and pattern of their own pain, which derived its significance and merit from Him.

          The chief priests and elders criticized Jesus for consorting with sinners and tax collectors.  Jesus retorted by insisting that it was the sick, not the healthy, who require the doctor.   He had come to heal those who needed to be cured, not to preach to the virtuous; to care for and console those in distress, to be near to those who feel neglected and alone; to forgive the seemingly unforgivable faults that we are liable to commit and redress the wrongs that we do to ourselves and others.  On the Cross we see Jesus at his most human and most vulnerable, and at the same time, paradoxically, at his most triumphant, as the conqueror of sin and death.  Christus regnavit a ligno.  Christ's reigning from the tree of the Cross invites us and allows us to share in His Passion and in our redemption.

The Creche at Regina Laudis in Bethlehem

          After an absence of many years, the Neapolitan crèche at Regina Laudis Abbey, newly restored, has been returned to the 18th century barn in which it was installed in 1949. Unlike most scenes of the Nativity, this one can be viewed not only at Christmas, but throughout the year. The 68 figures, carved out of cork wood from the region of Naples some 300 years ago, underwent a professional rejuvenation by skilled technicians at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, with the cost being met by foundations and individual donations. It depicts not only the stable with the holy family and the Magi, but a large spectrum of 18th -century society in bucolic Italy: young and old, peasants, merchants, shepherds, farmers, their wives and children and a variety of animals.  The donor, Mrs. Loretta Howard of New York, collected a number of Neapolitan crèches, the most famous of which she gave to the Metropolitan Museum, where it has been displayed for more than half a century in a Christmas tree arrangement. Mrs. Howard was also a benefactor of Portsmouth, having given a modern tapestry woven by an Italian artist for the Blessed Sacrament altar. In the 1950s she offered the monastery a crèche similar to that of Regina Laudis, but at that time there was no place for it to be exhibited or stored when not in use. The Benedictine nuns, whose abbey is located in Bethlehem, Ct., are to be commended for making this original work of art available to the public throughout the year, a reminder that the mystery of the Incarnation is not to be restricted to Christmas, but something to be pondered during all the liturgical seasons. 

Liturgical Calendar for February
Cycle of Prayer: Christian Unity; the Unemployed; Peace;
Students and Teachers; the Sick and those who care for them

1    SUNDAY IV IN ORDINARY TIME
      OBLATE DAY OF RECOLLECTION: Abbot Matthew
2    Presentation of the Lord
3    St. Blaise, Bishop & Martyr
      St. Ansgar, Bishop, Patron of Scandinavia
4    St. Agatha, Martyr
5    SS. Paul Miki and Companions
          Martyrs of Japan
8    SUNDAY V IN ORDINARY TIME
10  St. Scholastica, Sister of St. Benedict
11   St. Benedict of Aniane, Abbot
14   S. Cyril, Monk, and Methodius, Bishop
       Patrons of Europe
15   SUNDAY VI IN ORDINARY TIME
21   St. Peter Damian, Bishop & Doctor
22   SUNDAY VII  IN ORDINARY TIME
23    St. Polycarp, Bishop & Martyr
25   Ash Wednesday

Monastery Notes

          The annual retreat for the Community was given in December by the Very Reverend Simon McGuirk, Prior Administrator of Saint Anselm's Abbey, our sister house in Washington.  In his conferences Dom Simon  presented a series of meditations on the relationship of the Holy Rule to the seven sacraments, pointing out the many parallels between Baptism and Profession and the life-long commitment undertaken by those in the married and the monastic state, strengthened as they both are through vows.  The sacraments of healing, penance and anointing, are suggested in the chapters in the Rule dealing with the disciplinary code and  with the care of the physically and spiritually sick  through the appointment of an infirmarian and  the recourse to sympectae, as aides to the Abbot in providing fraternal correction when necessary.  Dom Simon made some interesting connections between the Rule and the Eucharist/Conventual Mass, which are rarely mentioned in the Rule, the practice of daily mass being a later addition to the monastic horarium.   
      
          Two outstanding gifts have been made to the School and Monastery by alumni over the past two months. One consists of nearly one hundred pieces of furniture to supply much-needed replacements throughout the School campus, particularly in the reception areas and in the guest rooms and the libraries.  The other acquisition adds six antique vases to the School's already impressive pottery collection donated by the same alumnus, an American who lives with his family in Singapore.

            Prayers are asked for the soul of Jonetta M. Hunter, an oblate recently deceased.  May she rest in peace.

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