January 2013 Newsletter

Our first meeting of 2013 will be held next Sunday, January 27 in the parish center at St. Gertrude in Madeira. The agenda and program information may be found below. The Minutes of the November meeting are enclosed. Please note that a copy of the very helpful Lectio Divina handout Fr. Francis de Sales Wagner gave out at the November meeting is on the reverse side of the Minutes for those who may have missed the last meeting.

Those “old timers” in our Cincinnati Chapter will fondly remember Bill Dieckman. For those who did not know him, Bill was a member of our chapter before he retired many years ago and moving to Pensacola, Florida. I regret to inform you that Bill passed away December 20. Please remember him in your prayers.

As an aside, I thought you might enjoy the item below which I am reprinting from one of our 2004 newsletters. Only Bill would have thought of this unique use for his Abby Casket, and it is comforting to know that he was able to take his altar with him.

For m er Cincinnati Oblate, Bill Dieckman, who now resides in Flor ida, recently sent the above photo to John Campbell, and John graciously shared it with us. Accompanying the photo was the following note:

"Greetings Oblate:

This is a picture of Fr. Perez, STD, w hen he blessed my house and oratory. I lifted the Altar" cloth so you could see the casket. I'm probably one of few people who have attended a Mass said on their own casket (outside of it, that is)!"

We hope Bill enjoys his "Altar " for a long, long time!


Benedictine Oblate Retreat March 20-22, 2013

Fr. Adrien Burke, OSB, is the presenter for the March 2013 Benedictine Oblate Retreat at Saint Meinrad Archabbey.

Fr. Adrien’s topic for the March Retreat is: “Lectio Divina and Spiritual Work: Praying and Progress.”

Spaces are filling up, so you might want to make your reservation soon if you are planning to attend.

Listening Willingly to Holy Reading

Evangelizing Ourselves through Lectio Divina
Br. Francis de Sales Wagner, O.S.B., Saint Meinrad Archabbey, 2012

***

In his chapter in the Rule on the tools for good works, St. Benedict exhorts us—as he did the early monks—to “Listen readily to holy reading, and devote yourself often to prayer.” Here, Benedict speaks of the ancient practice of lectio divina, specificially linking it to prayer; but what does he mean by telling us to listen readily to holy reading?

To do something “readily,” according to the American Heritage Dictionary, means to do so promptly, eagerly, and willingly, as in: “I readily accepted the dinner invitation.” It means doing something without hesitation, reluctance, or delay. It implies enthusiastic reception. There is also an element of expectation involved—an open heart that is ready to embrace something new with all due honor and respect. And all this is done willingly—of one’s own free choice. In fact, some versions of the Rule translate Benedict’s exhortation as “listen willingly to holy reading.” Rather than “readily” or “willingly,” Benedictine scholar and writer Terrence Kardong translates the Latin text of this word as “intently.” This seems to indicate that listening to holy reading is not always easy. We must pay attention to what is being conveyed to us in lectio divina. It requires effort. So, we could say that Benedict tells us to “Listen attentively,” or more directly: “Pay attention!”

In order to understand what lectio involves, it is useful to consider the times in which Benedict and his monks lived. Here, I turn to Trappist monk Michael Casey’s book Sacred Reading, which begins with a look at how monks read in sixth-century Italy.

From Michael Casey’s book “Sacred Reading,”p. 3-4:
The practice of personal reading was relatively unusual at this time. Books were scarce and reading skills were confined to those who had received a liberal education. The availability of reading matter was not to be taken for granted. The process of copying an existing manuscript was long and required much diligence. From the preparation of parchment and ink to the copying of every word of text, the production of books required time and resources. In monetary terms, the cost of a book in modern reckoning would probably amount to thousands of dollars. The monks of the Benedictine tradition regarded reading as an essential element in living a spiritual life and were prepared to invest considerable resources in ensuring that it would be possible both for themselves and for future generations.

It was the rarity of books that dictated the style of reading. Because the acquisition of a manuscript represented a considerable investment, only those books were copied that were considered to be of special value. As a result, whatever was read was approached with the expectation that it would be worthwhile. There was respect for the text, and this grew into a deep sense of reverence.

Books themselves were often cumbersome; they were not convenient for speed reading so the monks tended to read slowly, probably vocalizing the words as they read. Often significant passages would be
committed to memory; only a few scholars had the possibility of taking notes for permanent reference. With so few titles available, favorite works would be re-read many times. Because there were few reference books or commentaries, the monks had to learn to sit with difficulties and obscurities and try to puzzle out for themselves the meaning of the page before them. Reading became a dialogue with the text.

Many of us today who attempt to master the technique of lectio divina find that it becomes confused with other types of reading undertaken professionally or for entertainment or knowledge. Lectio is an exercise that can be difficult to maintain. This means that we have to make the effort to build into our holy reading some of the qualities that the ancient monks were lucky enough to have by accident.

So, reading was quite different in Benedict’s time than it is in ours. Now, we are saturated with words, with all kinds of messages in various forms of media, and ironically, relatively few people read anything in depth. When most people read today, it is done quickly. Text is scanned for information. As a culture, we value getting to the point. We are chiefly interested in the bottom line, what can be plainly said, and, quite frankly, whatever confirms our own thought patterns. There is little patience for repeatedly reading just a few words and pondering the sacred mystery that lies behind them, for wrestling with their difficulties and challenges, discovering layer after layer of meaning over time, and for simply letting them slowly soak into our very being until they become part of us.

As Kardong points out in his commentary on the Rule, “the ancients did not merely follow words on a page as we do, but customarily vocalized them, even when alone. Consequently, they read more slowly, and they also involved more of their faculties in the process. This in turn enabled them to memorize texts more easily than we do, and to retain those texts in their minds for meditation. Lectio divina for the early monks was the leisurely savoring of biblical texts that were mostly committed to memory. Some of this memorization was done for use in the Divine Office, but much of it was meant to equip the person for private rumination. [The Word of God became part of the daily fabric of their lives; it became the monk’s prayer whatever he was doing.] Lectio divina is not just study, no matter how pious that study might be. It is not research for a sermon or a conference. Rather, it is strictly non-utilitarian time spent with the Word of God for personal spiritual profit—for the salvation of one’s soul. The Bible is indeed divine revelation. Lectio divina is a sustained effort to be open to what God’s word says to me here and now.”

This is the key difference between holy reading and other types of reading—between listening willingly, as Benedict instructs, and doing so with half-heartedness, hesitation, reluctance, and without enthusiasm, expectation, or attention. It is the difference between skimming the surface for what benefits us and plunging into the depths to be immersed in the mystery that has the power to transform us into the way, the truth, and the life of Christ—who is God’s Word among us.

In other words, lectio divina is the manner in which we evangelize ourselves. Although Christians tend to view evangelization as something we do to bring Christ to others, we cannot reasonably expect to do that unless we evangelize ourselves—not once in a lifetime, but for a lifetime. To share Christ with others, we must regularly receive what Christ shares with us in the Word of God. Just as we eat several times each day to nourish our body so that we have the energy to accomplish our daily tasks, we must fortify ourselves regularly not only with the Eucharist, public worship, and prayer, but by feeding on the Word of God by listening willingly to holy reading. As Pope Paul VI said, “Evangelizing means to bring the Good News into all the strata of humanity, and through its influence, transforming humanity from within and making it new … But there is no new humanity if there are not first of all new persons renewed by baptism, and by lives lived according to the Gospel.”

Evangelization begins with the individual person—you and I—in conversation with God the Father, who speaks to each of our hearts through his Son, the Word made flesh, with the aid of the Holy Spirit. To authentically live the Gospel, we must continually immerse ourselves in it. As English Benedictine Cyprian Smith says, “The Bible, especially the New Testament, is not a book like any other book. It is a place of encounter with Christ, who meets us in it and speaks to us through it.” Surely, we meet Christ in other ways, too, but lectio divina or holy reading has a special, unique character, that over time produces fruit in other aspects of our lives of faith. “When we pray, we speak to God,” St. Augustine said. “When we read Scripture, God speaks to us.”

Here we enter into the realm of conversion, and as we know, conversatio, or conversion of life, is one of the three vows professed by monks. This is why at Vigils, we chant the words of Psalm 95 during the invitatory: “Let us listen to the voice of the Lord. If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts.” We are praying to be open to what God has to say to us in his Word—whether in the Divine Office, in lectio divina, or in any other part of the day. As Jesus often says throughout the gospels: “Let anyone with ears to hear, listen!” (Mark 4:9, etc.) One passage from Scripture that serves as a great meditation on holy reading itself and its connection with self-evangelization, or conversion, is James 1:21-25:

“Accept and submit to the word which has been planted in you and can save your souls. But you must do what the word tells you, and not just listen to it and deceive yourselves. To listen to the word and not obey is like looking at your own features in a mirror and then, after a quick look, going off and immediately forgetting what you looked like. But the man who looks steadily at the perfect law of freedom and makes that his habit—not listening and then forgetting, but actively putting it into practice—will be happy in all that he does.”

In the first part of the passage, with the words “accept and submit to the word,” James essentially says the same thing as St. Benedict: Listen readily to holy reading. James compares God’s word to a seed: “accept and submit to the word which has been planted in you,” he says. The seed is God’s word, the plow is the Gospel, and the soil is our hearts. The furrows of our daily lives must be open to receive God’s Word of truth, the rainfall of grace, and the sunlight of mercy. As the ancient monk John Cassian said, “Each hour and every moment we keep opening the ground of the heart with the plow of the Gospel.”

This, I think, is a great image and mindset for approaching lectio divina—By “listening willingly to holy reading,” as Benedict says, we open our hearts to truly receive God’s word so that it can sprout within us, grow, and bear fruit. Now, the Word is actually implanted within our hearts at Baptism, but we must spend a lifetime cultivating the soil so that it takes root and produces an abundant harvest. As God foretold through the prophet Jeremiah (31:33): “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts.”

The plow of the Gospel, as Cassian puts it, or listening willingly to holy reading, as Benedict says, is how we tend the seed of the Word that is planted within us. By regularly being attentive to Scripture in lectio divina, we nurture that Word within us to take root and grow. We must cooperate with God’s grace in this respect. We must evangelize ourselves.

Of course, we must do more than simply listen to the Word and then later forget all about it as we go about our daily tasks. Truly listening to someone or something means to take what is said to heart. The word listen comes from the same Latin root as the word obey— so to listen is to obey. As the second part of the passage from the Letter of James says, if we only hear God’s Word, we deceive ourselves. First we must listen, but then we must do what the Word says. Here, James uses the image of a mirror to make his point: “To listen to the word and not obey is like looking at your own features in a mirror and then, after a quick look, going off and immediately forgetting what you looked like. But the man who looks steadily at the perfect law of freedom and makes that his habit—not listening and then forgetting, but actively putting it into practice—will be happy in all that he does.”

This is a good image to carry with us. The Word of God, if we are looking and listening intently, holds up a mirror to our souls. It shows us the truth of who we are in our brokenness, the life we are called to live in God’s eyes, and the way to eternal life by following Christ. As the Letter of James says, we are not to put this mirror down after taking a quick look, and then forget what we’ve seen. Instead, he urges us to look steadily into it, to make this our habit, and to actively put what we see into practice. Listening to holy reading then, is like carrying around this mirror throughout the day, gazing into it not only during specific periods for lectio, but holding it in front of us and gazing into it every moment of every day. We listen to holy reading, commit it to heart, keep it before our eyes, and then act on it when given the opportunity.

St. Benedict also addresses this aspect of holy reading in his Prologue to the Rule (33-35): “The Lord says in the Gospel: Whoever hears these words of mine and does them is like a wise man who built his house upon rock; the floods came and the winds blew and beat against the house, but it did not fall. It was founded on rock (Matthew 7:24-25). With this conclusion, the Lord waits for us daily to translate into action, as we should, his holy teachings.”

If we are faithful to holy reading--as James, St. Benedict and Jesus all tell us--then we will not only be situated on a solid foundation when the troubles of life beat against us, but we will also find true happiness in all we do.

Yet, lectio divina is not easy. Just like anything worth doing, it requires perseverance and patience to listen willingly to holy reading, and to evangelize ourselves so that our hearts may be converted. For lectio to truly be sown and take root in our lives, we must sincerely make time for it each day and be faithful and regular about it. It means setting aside specific times--and for a few moments, anyway, all other concerns--for the sole purpose of conversing with God in holy reading. It means slowly reading a text (for example, one of the Gospels) all the way through from beginning to end without setting goals or deadlines. It means reading, repeating, and reflecting on words or phrases that strike us, and then responding to God in prayer. Then, we rest in God’s presence without words before moving on, continuing this rhythm of listening and responding to God’s Word. It means approaching lectio expecting to hear the voice of God, who gave us hearts to listen.

But it also means not expecting quick and easy answers. We must be willing to sit with or mull over a particular text—one that captures our attention, and yet confounds us. Often, if we keep a particular passage before our eyes (as with the mirror mentioned in the Letter of James), daily circumstances, or even further Scripture passages, encountered in the succeeding days, weeks, and months will shed new light and peel back layers of understanding to the words we had been pondering. In other words, sometimes the “A-ha!” moment is on tape-delay! And, of course, as we’ve seen, lectio means putting into practice the Word that we’ve listened to, so that gradually we become the words that we ponder—even when those words are not what we would like to hear. God’s Word is surely meant to comfort, console, and confirm us, but it’s also there to challenge us so that we don’t become complacent along the road to eternal life. If we are never challenged, we risk straying off the path unwittingly. As Michael Casey says (The Road to Eternal Life), most Christians who are serious about leading a spiritual life are not overt sinners deliberately and maliciously committing unspeakable crimes. Rather, he says, we are more likely to commit sins of omission—not doing the good we are capable of doing when we have the opportunity and resources.

Still, we also must be patient—especially during those long stretches where nothing seems to be happening and God seems to be silent. The seeds of God’s Word fall softly into the furrows of our lives, and as long as we keep plowing with the Gospel as our guide, growth will surely follow—though it will be silent and slow. Conversion of heart doesn’t happen overnight—for most people, anyway.

As Trappist monk Charles Cummings says (Monastic Practices): “The process is a gentle one. The Lord does not come in an earthquake [as the prophet Elijah discovered in 1Kings 19:22], but in a soft whispering sound. In the course of sacred reading, we meet the Lord in living faith, hope, and love. The encounter takes place without drama, as we quietly savor and relish the mystery of God’s caring presence. The encounter is real without being extraordinary or spectacular.”

Indeed, the effectiveness of lectio divina, or that of any spiritual discipline, is not measured by how much comfort it brings us, but by its results—an increase of virtue as we take on the mind of Christ—and this occurs only with a considerable amount of time and struggle against each virtue’s opposing vice. Often, the process will seem unnoticeable as it is occurring. Sometimes, we may even feel like we’re backsliding. However, with spiritual hindsight, the silent growth of God’s grace and our cooperation with it becomes quite evident. Sometimes we need distance to see more clearly; like appreciating a fine work of art, we can’t take in its overall effect with our noses pressed up against it. We have to stand back and look at it.

The same is true for our commitment to holy reading. If we’ve been faithful to it, hopefully over time we can stand back and see the long-term effect of God’s Word in our lives. Gradually, by listening willingly to holy reading as St. Benedict instructs us, our minds, our hearts, and our wills become one with God’s. As Cummings suggests, “Fidelity to sacred reading should work a gradual change in the reader’s relationships with other people, helping him or her become more generous, considerate, gentle, and less selfish, cranky, gossipy, touchy. Sacred reading spreads out into daily life as a power of ongoing conversion, enabling the reader to recognize and respond to the Word of God spoken at diverse times and circumstances.”

Little by little, by listening willingly to holy reading, we are evangelized, and the Word becomes flesh in our daily lives. We become not only hearers, but doers, of the Word as it wears away our inborn resistance to God.

As one of the Desert Fathers said:
The nature of water is soft, that of stone is hard; but if a jug of water is placed above the stone, allowing the water to fall drop by drop, it eventually wears away the stone. So it is with the word of God; it is soft and our heart is hard, but the one who hears the word of God often, opens his heart to the love of God.

November 2012 Newsletter

Our November Oblate meeting will be held next Sunday, November 18, at 2:00 p.m., in the East/West room of the St. Gertrude Parish Center in Madeira. Brother Francis DeSales Wagner, OSB will be the guest speaker; his topic is: Listening Willingly to Holy Reading: Evangelizing Ourselves Through Lectio Divina. There will be no meeting in December due to the Oblate Retreat at Saint Meinrad December 7-9. Our next meeting will be on January 27.

Nick Dellecave has done a great job with our Cincinnati Oblates website. If you have not yet done so, you may want to check it out at www.cincinnatioblates.org. Also, Saint Meinrad Archabbey has launched their new website with a special tab on the first page just for oblates at www.saintmeinrad.org. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

October 2012 Newsletter

We will continue with Conference #3 of Father Harry Hagen’s conference series entitled An Overview of Things in The Rule at our October meeting. The study sheet for this conference, which is entitled “St. Benedict’s Library: Humility.”

The 2012 December Oblate Retreat will be held at Saint Meinrad Archabbey from December 7-9. The presenter for this retreat will be Fr. Eugene Hensell, OSB, and his topic is “Lectionary Divina: Listening to the Scriptures with the Ear of Your Heart.” You should be receiving registration information from the Saint Meinrad Oblate Office soon. If you do not and are interested in registering or need additional information, please contact the Oblate Office at 812.357.6817.

Congratulations Paula Yerke who was inducted as an oblate novice at our September 23rd meeting, and to Susan Anderson who celebrated 50 years as an oblate!

Paula Yerke with Fr. Joseph after being invested

as an oblate novice.

Susan Anderson renewing her oblation—50

years as an oblate!

September 2012 Newsletter

September is here once more, and we are ready to resume our chapter meetings.  Summer was so hot and humid I thought at times it would never pass.  Now, I find it hard to believe it went so fast!

Our first meeting for 2012-2013 was held at 2:00 p.m. on September 23 at our home in Kenwood
(directions enclosed).  Fr. Joseph Cox, OSB, will be the Guest Speaker for this meeting.  The topic of his talk was:  "How Lectio Divina Helps Us in Overcoming Murmuring.”  (When I mentioned to Clyde the topic of Fr. Joseph’s talk, he commented that—regardless of Lectio—he considers himself an expert at murmuring.  I’m afraid Fr. Joseph is going to have a big job on his hands!)

A potluck dinner followed the meeting.  We provided the main course, plates, napkins, utensils, and iced tea, coffee and soft drinks.  Those who are able brought a side dish (vegetable, salad, fruit) or dessert to share. We always have plenty of food.

Two new oblates were invested in May.  We welcome Mainerd Sorensen, who was invested on May 9, and Claudia Reynolds, who was invested at the Oblate Day of Recollection in Columbus on May 19.  Our congratulations to you both.  We are happy to have you with us.

2012/2013 Meeting Dates

Please Note:  

• All meetings begin at 2:00 p.m.
• The annual Day of Reflection for Ohio oblates is shown in red.

2012

September 23 (Fr. Joseph Cox) — at Home of the Dorns
October 28 (Video Conference) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center
November 18 (Monk from St. Meinrad) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center

2013

January 27 (Video Conference) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center
February 24 (Monk from St. Meinrad) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center
March 24 (Video Conference) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center
April 28 (Program to be determined) — at St. Gertrude Parish Center

May 18 (Ohio Day of Recollection) —  in Dayton, OH

Final Oblation - A New Adventure

18 months ago, I was beginning to expand my horizons within my newly found faith. Being Catholic all my life, I would say for much of my young adult life I was "catholic" in name but spiritually out to lunch. Several years ago, with a renewed vigor and an unquenchable thirst for more understanding and instruction, I took the advice of my Pastor and attended Saint Meinrad on retreat with one of my very close friends.

I had never heard of the Benedictine's, the Archabbey, nor understood what I was getting myself into. I went to a series of conferences delivered by then novice monk Br. Matthew Mattingly on Lectio Divina (which admittedly I hadn't heard of either at the time). I recall my initial impression of the towering spires around the bend, the drive up the hill, the quality of the lectures, and the peace in that place. All together it was an incredible experience, and the prayer time spent with the monks was frankly riveting (in a quieting sort of way). I left the Archabbey stunned and unsure of the gravity of what I had just experienced. True peace and silence and prayer, something I think many Christians are yearning for in our increasingly busy lives.

After the first visit I had a desire to return, but was more interested in learning about the Benedictine way of life. I downloaded an app on my iPhone for the Divine Office and began to do that daily. I figured if I could do that a few times a day why not! So after 30 days of praying the Office I was online and found information regarding the Oblate program. Prior to this I had no clue it even existed on the Hill, much less what it meant nor anything really at all about the tenants of the obligation. I sat on the information for several months and then determined I would investigate by contacting the Oblate Office.

Now, being 30 at the time, and relatively young-looking I must say, I find it a bit awkward finding this all so fascinating around so many seasoned adults. I decided after some back and forth with the office that I would begin my Oblate faith journey. After having been invested into the novitiate in May of 2011, I met so many WONDERFUL people! Members from Dayton, Columbus, and Cincinnati. I quickly joined the Cincinnati Chapter and attended regular meetings, and continued to learn and discern my journey forward. I started a personal Blog that I shared with friends to keep tabs on my thoughts, musings, and readings. It was a great exercise early on, but then a job change occurred and my schedule suddenly changed where regular updates were difficult to complete.

I chose to participate in the monthly reflection with the Oblate Director which were extremely satisfying! Not only was it a great way to focus my attention to a particular theme during each month, I found the questions and the responses from the Oblate Director were both rewarding and educational. I learned a lot about myself, my time management, my life, my dealings with others, and more importantly my relationship with God.

Keeping up with my responsibilities as an Oblate Novice were challenging at times. Admittedly, keeping up with a lot of work travel, business at home, and my busy volunteer-oriented life, left me a little frustrated during the process. This frustration however, really kept me focused on the task, whether or not I was capable of flexing my time to complete the Oblate's very simple tasks, and just to slow down and focus. These learned lessons were very instrumental in helping learn to better manage my day, to focus my energies in a way that did not induce stress, and to live out my novitiate year with a terrific sense of peace and accomplishment. Most things in life worth doing aren't easy. And this process posed some challenges to me personally, and spiritually. Some challenges at the time were difficult, but most most were a good kind of challenge causing me to evaluate and then fully invest myself during the time I have in a day. This is not to say that everyday is successful. Life certainly happens, and one must be willing to allow life's ebbs and flows to drive on occasion. This process allowed me to better understand these things, and I believe has truly made me a better man.

I attended several more retreats during the course of the year with various friends and compatriots, and fully took advantage of the educational offerings made available by the monastery.

In June I went to the study days for my Final Oblation and with a good friend whom I had discussed starting his Novitiate. Younger than me, Phil is a brilliant mind and theologically well-versed in his faith but often struggles with the same things many of us do; namely where can I find some peace, so quiet and some time in my busy day/life. Fr. Prior Kurt delivered the conferences on the Sacraments, and what a remarkable understanding he has of the blessings and grace we receive through the. His insights as well as his book following up on those topics was an outstanding read, and so good I read his work in a day. Riveting material!

We both really enjoyed the opportunity to be a part of the week and recommend attendance to anyone who is an Oblate interested in learning more about their faith and to stay for an extended period on the Hill. Finally came the day for the Investiture and Final Oblation. Phil was up first and was received as a novice into the Oblate community. We had mutual friends drive up for the day to support us, and my wife attended as well truly capping off the days events!

When Phil's section was over I was asked to step forward with 2 others Helen and Jerry, fellow novices who were to complete their Final Oblation along with me. We had a really good time with each other during the week, and getting to stand in the church with such distinguished and loving people was a terrific treat.

When it came time for me to step forward and make my promises, I was a little antsy. Mostly in part due to having selected my Oblate name and not having shared it with anyone, including my wife. The process for choosing this name took me MONTHS! I prayed about it, slept on it, prayed some more and researched more resources than I think the law allows given my hectic schedule. Nonetheless I was determined to choose something that was appealing for faith reasons, someone whose life reflected mine in a way, and one whose journey led to the strengthening of virtues that hope to achieve myself someday. 

I chose the name of Saint Anselm who was a Benedictine monk, Abbot and Archbishop of Canterbury before the English bowed out of the Catholic Church. Anselm was a tough man who endured great hardship, relocation, deceit, struggle, and a dose of politics thrown in for good measure. He was a busy man! Somehow in his free-time he managed to write the original ontological argument (for you philosophy geeks out there) which basically for the first time used logic to prove the existence of God. His works earned him the name of  the "Father of Scholasticism" and rightly so!

At the close of our Oblation ceremony, Fr. Meinrad gave each of us a gift. The gift (pictured below) is a beautiful hand carved plate painted and made with the loving hands of another. We posed for a picture of it, and let me tell you, not only was the gift a surprise, but also an incredible work of art that I proudly display in my own home. What a blessing!

Following the presentation, all Oblates and guests in attendance came around and offered their sign of peace and support. This kind of fellowship is difficult to find and was a blessed ending to a long journey!

At the end of the ceremony we all were caught in a very cool live action pose (below) that I think really does describe the personalities of the group we had, and really captures the spirit of the day, the week, and really the entirety of the yearlong journey. I am truly blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life, to have met so many caring and compassionate folks who are out to learn more about God and their own faith journey. This group, this calling, this life is too short to spend on getting caught up in the nitty gritty. Spend a little time with the Lord, take a retreat and who knows where He will take you!

Yours in St. Benedict,

Oblate Nicholas Anthony Paul Anselm DelleCave

50 Years of Oblation - An Anniversary

My Benedictine connections journey begins in Evansville, Indiana at St. Benedict Cathedral Parish where our family belonged and my five younger siblings and I went to school. The Benedictine monks from St. Meinrad Archabbey in St. Meinrad, Indiana and the Benedictine sisters from the Convent of the Immaculate Conception in Ferdinand, Indiana continued to encourage our Catholic faith that began in our home.

For high school I attended the Academy of the Immaculate Conception boarding school staffed by the Benedictine sisters at Ferdinand, Indiana. During my junior year on May 8th, 1962 I joined the Benedictine Oblates. I took my mother's name Mildred as my Oblate name. Yearbook pictures show Fr. Gerard Elspermann from St. Meinrad receiving Oblations from the juniors in 1963. At that time Oblation was made to a men's monastery rather than a woman's. Now the Sisters do have their own Oblate groups.

After high school I joined the Benedictine sisters for three and a half years as Sr. Rebecca and went to college in Ferdinand at St. Benedict College and in Atchison, Kansas at Mt. St. Scholastica College. After I left the community in 1967, I taught in schools in Boonville and Evansville, Indiana that were staffed by the Benedictine sisters from Ferdinand and lay people.

In 1985, I moved to Cincinnati, Ohio and began teaching in the Cincinnati Public Schools. As there were no Benedictine parishes here, I joined the Jesuit parish St. Francis Xavier downtown. In the mid-1990's I noticed in the Cincinnati Archdiocese Catholic Telegraph information about a Benedictine Oblates chapter meeting here.

On my next trip back to Evansville, I stopped at St, Meinrad on the way and asked for Fr. Meinrad in the Oblate Office if there was record of my Oblation. He located a shoe box of 3 x 5 cards that included one with the information shown on the Oblate Identification Card copied here with the yearbook cover. Fr. Meinrad explained that my Oblation could now be transferred to the Ferdinand Sisters Oblate group if I wanted. I preferred to keep my Oblation with St. Meinrad and have enjoyed the renewed connections now in my Cincinnati area home.

Our family's roots at St. Meinrad are deep going back to my godfather, Robert Garvey, my mother's oldest brother, who was in high school seminary there in the 1920's. He returned home to Evansville for his senior year because their father had several severe strokes. My mother and sisters and I have enjoyed annual retreats together for many years at St. Meinrad.

I thank God for all the rich blessings of my life including 10 years of Hodgkins' lymphoma cancer survivorship as of May 10, 2012. My years of learning and praying with the Benedictines have immeasurably enhanced my life's journey. I thank God for all the connections given in my birth family and beyond to all the learning, social, musical, and religious families of my life thus far in my journey to become who God created me to be!

Fifty Year Oblation - May 8th, 1962 - May 8th, 2012
Susan Marie Bernadette Mildred Rebecca Anderson