Weekly Word

Every afternoon, as I sit in my upstairs office, I hear the old monastery bells begin to ring in the once Benedictine church that then adjoined this inner-city monastery.

The Feast of the Annunciation is observed today, since the traditional feast date (March 25th) fell in Holy Week this year. 

“The tomb was empty,” the Scriptures say, metaphorically perhaps but pointedly, nevertheless.

Everyone who has ever lived, who will ever live, will someday undergo a Holy Saturday of their own.

The feast of the transitus of Saint Benedict is celebrated on March 21.

Everyone has hard days.

"There can be no real peace without justice. And without resistance, there will be no justice," writes Arundhati Roy.

Ash Wednesday signals the beginning of that season of the church year that is most commonly associated with penance. But there is a danger lurking in that definition.

The Feast of Scholastica, the founder of Benedictine life for women, is observed on February 10.

Do I believe in the Holy Spirit? You bet I do. Nothing else makes sense.

Life is not meant to be a burden. Life is not a problem to be solved. It is a blessing to be celebrated.

Grief is that slice of life that takes us beyond the boundaries of our mind and makes us see life anew again.

There are two ways to be holy.

Confucius may have said it best: “Everything has beauty,” he taught, “but not everyone sees it.” Seeing it, the spiritual person knows, is the task of a lifetime.

Of all the attitudes we bring to prayer, presence is at once one of the simplest and one of the most difficult.