At a recent conference in Spain, my commitment to ‘being neighbour’ expanded as I listened to the reports from Benedictine women from across the world, writes Congregational Leader Sister Catherine McCahill.
Above the clouds, below the clouds, in the clouds, or no clouds at all – this was my recent experience at Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey, high on the Montserrat Mountain, outside Barcelona.
I was there for the annual conference of delegates for the Communio Internationalis Benedictinarum (CIB). The delegates from 19 regions across the world “bring together in a sisterly bond all women’s communities consociated with the Benedictine Confederation” (that is, Benedictine men confederated under the Abbot Primate).
Gathering on the first evening, we rejoiced to renew acquaintances and meet ‘new’ delegates. With my lack of language skills, I stood in awe at those women who moved so readily between at least two or three languages. And yet, in the end, language did not matter as we learned to communicate with each other, to pray together, to enjoy each other’s company at table and to meet for a common purpose.
My commitment to ‘being neighbour’ expanded as I listened to the reports from the regions. I heard of communities living in the midst of war and violence; their commitment to hospitality, bearing witness to hope in a better future, providing resources if they have them, comforting the wounded, bereaved and tortured.
From others, I heard words of hope, as in the words of the delegate from Spain and Portugal:
Hope means waiting against all hope, like Abraham and Sarah did. Our fast-paced, 5G lifestyle cries out – loudly – for spaces, environments, and people that can show us that another way of life is possible. This gives me hope. It tells me that our monastic life is more necessary than ever, even if no one thanks us for it.
Every smile I receive or discover gives me hope. Every gesture that offers dignity and reverence to another person renews my spirit. It gives me hope that goodness and beauty are not front-page news – precisely because they are not the exception.
These sentiments were echoed from the Americas, to Asia, the Pacific, Europe and Africa.
Conference delegates with Sister Simona Brambilla MC. Image: CIB Secretariat.
During the conference, I witnessed quiet words and gestures of encouragement and of solidarity as we shared life together in prayer, at table and in the in-between spaces.
In the few weeks since returning home, I find my heart and mind pondering three key experiences.
Sister Simona Brambilla MC, the Prefect (Head) of the Dicastery for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (in other words, the person in the Vatican with oversight of all religious women and men throughout the world), joined us for one day.
Her presentation and the in-session ‘conversation’ the following morning assured me of her comprehensive, compassionate understanding of religious women and men, from those ministering in situations of war and systemic and large-scale violence, to those continuing their commitment in providing services and/or places of prayer and hospitality.
She spoke also of communities and congregations who are coming to an end, of the need to discern and plan, to know that our purpose is God’s reign, not our own structures.
Her presence and her words called me to be a better neighbour.
Abbess Klara Swiderska of Mary Immaculate Abbey in Zhytomyr, Ukraine updated us via Zoom (and a translator) on the situation for her community and the people among whom they live. She spoke of the impact of war on her people and on her community. I recorded phrases:
… learn to live every day as it comes … do each task I do as if it’s the last time … if I talk to someone, I am fully present … if God gives me another day, I am grateful. If not, I will be with Him … Common prayer gives the Sisters strength to keep going … the rhythm gives the nuns and the refugees a sense of safety … a therapeutic impact.
She told us that the nuns no longer go to the basement when they hear the sirens because it is too scary – they stay together on the ground floor. Many people come to the monastery for food or medicine, for solace and peace, for prayers, to remember their dead. The nuns give them what they have – prayer, hospitality, quiet space (when the skies are quiet). What they have is shared.
Finally, she told us, “Paradoxically, the war keeps taking a lot. We lose a lot. But it is a moment of becoming aware of being part of, becoming aware of, this big Benedictine movement. God is able to do good things at this terrible time. Solidarity is beyond words.” We stood around Lynn McKenzie OSB, the CIB Moderator and waved to Klara in solidarity as our tears flowed.
Our final day at Montserrat was spent in conference with the 19 Abbot Presidents of the Benedictine men’s congregations. Again, we prayed, shared table and discussed various matters. ‘Supporting struggling communities’ was the most significant item for me.
Today, we are called to admit that religious life as we have known it in recent centuries is over. Many of our communities and congregations will close or merge. In the words of Sister Simona, “We have arrived at the paschal mystery.” How we embrace this mystery will be our testimony to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the one who embraced his paschal mystery.
That day at Montserrat, I knew that we do this together as neighbours to each other, in communion with all my Benedictine brothers and sisters.
My heart was expanded at Montserrat. The unpredictability of the clouds remains for me a metaphor of the current reality of our Benedictine lives. Sometimes we can see the far horizon and our path is clear, while at other times, we barely see as far as our next step. All I can do is echo the words of St Benedict, “Together we go to everlasting life.”
