The Risk of Birth This is no time for a child to be born, With the earth betrayed by war & hate And a comet slashing the sky to warn That time runs out & the sun burns late. That was no time for a child to be born, In a land in the crushing grip of Rome; Honour & truth were trampled by scorn- Yet here did the Saviour make his home. When is the time for love to be born? The inn is full on the planet earth, And by a comet the sky is torn- Yet Love

Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown. Give me the faith to leave old ways and break fresh ground with You. Christ of the mysteries, I trust You to be stronger than each storm within me. I will trust in the darkness and know that my times, even now, are in Your hand. Tune my spirit to the music of heaven, and somehow, make my obedience count for You. —The Prayer of St. Brendan (attributed to Brendan)   Dearest monks and artists, I was not that familiar with Brendan the Navigator until I moved to Ireland.

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, New Year blessings to you! I love the Epiphany gospel story (in some churches celebrated January 6th and some next Sunday) and I offer you a reprise of a reflection on the invitations this text has to offer to us: The story of the magi offers us a template for an archetypal journey, that is, one we are all invited to make. We can find ourselves in the text if we have ever longed to follow an inkling into the long night knowing there were gifts awaiting us. Follow the star to where it leads

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, Advent is my favorite liturgical season of the year. Images of waiting, darkness, and birthing make my soul sing.  We are each given time and space to grow more welcoming to unknowing, where so much promise and possibility dwell.  During Advent we honor a God who is far beyond our own imaginations and who calls us into the fullness of our own horizons. The 17th century German mystic Angelus Silesius wrote, “I must be the Virgin and give birth to God.” He describes the call of this time: to birth the holy in the midst of our

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, Today we begin our journey into the holy season of Advent with our online retreat. The theme this year is Sacred Time: Embracing the Slow Rhythms of the Season. Here is a brief excerpt from the first week’s reflection: “The seasons, whether of the day, week, month, year, lifetime, or cosmos, invite us into a profound respect for thresholds. In our usual day to day awareness, one moment isn’t especially different from another. In seasonal time, we become aware of the continual invitation to cross a threshold into a deeper awareness. Dawn, day, dusk, and

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, I had a beloved spiritual director years ago when I lived in the San Francisco Bay area during graduate school who often asked me this question: What is it the season for? I loved this question because my creative heart was always full of new ideas, but one of my great invitations in life has been to discern the season I am in and what it calls for – to say no or not yet to many of the creative ideas stirring in me, to listen for what is truly ripe, to make space for

Dearest monks, artists, and pilgrims, In 2012 my husband and I decided to embark on a life adventure. We were living in Seattle and had been traveling to Europe twice a year to explore ancestral landscapes. He was growing more in need of a sabbatical from his position as high school theology teacher. I had recently applied for and received Austrian citizenship through my father. Between February and May, we began to sort through our things. It is amazing what accumulates in nine years in one place even in a small apartment with only three closets. “Honey, I just found