*The invitation of the first week of Advent is to awaken (click the link to read last Sunday’s reflection)* © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
Every year for the first Sunday of Advent we read a version of Jesus’ description of the end of days. In the Gospel reading from St. Luke this week, Jesus’ language is filled with apocalyptic images of fear and trembling and signs “in the sun, the moon, and the stars.” The word apocalypse essentially means revelation and is from the Greek for “uncovering what has been hidden.” In other words, apocalypse is about the revelation of a new truth in our lives. And Jesus’ reminder to “beware that your hearts do not become drowsy” is well-heeded in a time when
Welcome to our Poetry Party #41! I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your poems or other reflections. Add them in the comments section and a link to your blog (if you have one). Make sure to check the comments for new poems added and I encourage you to leave encouraging comments for each other either here or at the poet’s own blog. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog if you have one and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint the
(Photo taken in Squamish, BC – quote discovered while on pilgrimage) * Crossing the Threshold: New Year, New Beginnings will be available early next week – order your copies for holiday gifts today! * © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
As I began this year I had an encounter with a flock of pigeons which lifted my heart unexpectedly and then I found a feather on my doorstep. And so “Taking Flight” became my image for the year ahead. On my recent pilgrimage, winged ones – both avian and angelic – were significant symbols for me, appearing to me constantly during my travels and reminding me of that heart-transcending moment months before. The crow in particular became significant. I have always loved these black “glossy and rowdy” creatures, and since moving to Seattle over six years ago I have become
I think we talk because what lives inside silence scares us. -Linda Hogan Where will your own “zona sacra” be found today? (Photos taken at the Abbey of Montecassino in Italy) © Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: Transformative Living through Contemplative & Expressive Arts
There is a story from the Desert Fathers where one asks another “what is a monk?” And the response was “someone who asks ‘what is a monk?’ everyday.” Laurence Freeman, OSB at the World Congress of Benedictine Oblates in Rome began his talk on contemplation with this image and invited us as Oblates to consider the same possibility – that being an Oblate means asking ourselves, ‘what is an Oblate?’ every single day. I loved this definition shaped by a continual return to questions. It embraces one of the central hallmarks of Benedictine life which is a commitment to conversion.
Welcome to our 40th Poetry Party! I select an image and suggest a theme/title and invite you to respond with your poems or other reflections. Add them in the comments section and a link to your blog (if you have one). Make sure to check the comments for new poems added and I encourage you to leave encouraging comments for each other either here or at the poet’s own blog. Feel free to take your poem in any direction and then post the image and invitation on your blog if you have one and encourage others to come join the party! (permission is granted to reprint
I am leaving again to lead a retreat on Honoring Our Ancestors. These next few days are a threshold time in the Celtic calendar, when the veil between worlds is said to be especially thin. I have been lingering in this thin place for the last month and am eager to join with a group of women to honor this sacred time of year. In the Christian tradition, we are entering a time when we honor our beloved dead who have passed on before us. Together with my teaching and writing partner Betsey Beckman, we will engage in art and
Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. -Wallace Stevens I began my pilgrimage in Rome arriving late at night after my flight was delayed by several hours and I was bumped to a later connection. The first day of the World Congress of Benedictine Oblates was very full. I remember feeling filled with anticipation and also drained from the long travel. The Congress was held at a conference center on the outskirts of Rome, a beautiful setting. That first evening I took a long slow walk around the perimeter of the property. The evening light was illuminating the world around
