Prior's Newsletter | St. Albert's Priory

April 2012

Fri, 27 Apr 2012 22:19:12 -0700

From the Prior’s Window

Presently the view is quite dramatic, as we are in the middle of one of Oakland’s rare thunder storms. Birch Court is completely dark, until a flash of lightening momentarily illumines the scene. An instant later, thunder growls and I wait for everything in my room to rattle. I seem to recall a legend that Martin Luther found himself in such a storm, and was so frightened he made a vow to enter a monastery if God would bring him through the storm safely. Let’s hope for a happier end to this storm!

I spent 1973, the year before I was ordained, at our campus ministry in Eugene, Oregon, a place quite familiar with rain. The book to read that year was Watership Down, a novel about rabbits. The author notes that no animal welcomes bad weather, but observes

Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really mean is feeling proof against it…the winter cannot hurt them and therefore increases their sense of cleverness and security.

March 2012

Tue, 10 Apr 2012 10:41:36 -0700

For the second month in a row – Deo gratias! – I can begin these reflections with a window to look out of. This month, however, the window is not my usual one, nor my view that of the squirrels and the careless drivers who have found themselves beneath my window, as a result of their ignoring the “no outlet” sign at the College Avenue end of Birch Court.

This week – the first few days of it, at any rate (March 5 – 8) – finds me in Santa Cruz, and the view is that of the Pacific Ocean. I am attending the annual gathering of the superiors of the Western Province. This is a meeting we’ve held since sometime in the late 1970s (I was assigned to our community in Seattle, and was the youngest superior in the Province in those days) and it provides an opportunity for our Provincial, and us, to learn how things are going in each of the communities of the Western Province.

My report never changes. Regardless of the address, the Dominicans I live with are the most important individuals on the planet, and the house I live in is the most important piece of real estate God has created – even if my window doesn’t afford a view of squirrels! To be sure, I have enjoyed some ministry assignments more than others – for example, I don’t think was cut out to be a pastor – but to be a Dominican superior is the greatest honor I can imagine, and if – as I suspect – my brother-superiors have grown tired of hearing me repeat this over the years, tant pis!

February, 2012

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 11:57:16 -0800

My return to Oakland from Anchorage has been nothing less than magnificent. First, I have a window once again, so I no longer feel I’m writing this reflection with a certain lack of credibility. Secondly, the day after my arrival was so warm I asked someone whether I was hallucinating or were we simply enjoying unseasonably warm weather. I was happy to learn the temperatures were unusually high.

What was far less consoling was to learn that Thomas More McGreevy, my Student Master – and one of my forerunners as Prior at St. Albert’s – was near death. A few days after I came home, on February 3, we learned that Thomas More had died. Thomas More had been a childhood diabetic; only his rigorous adherence to a strict program of diet and exercise had enabled him to live seventy-six years, far longer than any of his doctors expected.

His appointment as our Student Master came as a surprise to everyone – not least to him. The office very suddenly fell vacant, while Fr. Thomas More was quite happily engaged in leading the Catholic campus ministry at the University of Washington, in Seattle. Both he and the students at St. Albert’s were altogether unprepared for our superiors’ decision to appoint him our director. The next few years were “rocky,” at best.

January, 2012

Wed, 25 Jan 2012 09:16:24 -0800

I’m afraid “window” is misleading – or, at the very least highly figurative – this month, as I am writing this reflection from a basement room in Anchorage, Alaska, that has no windows at all. This makes for a very dark and quiet retreat, but provides no glimpse of the scenic wonders of the place.

Ordinarily, only downhill ski enthusiasts would choose January as a time to visit Anchorage, and the last time I enjoyed that sport was when I was assigned here in my youth – 1977, I believe – but that’s to get ahead of my story. I am here now because the pastor of the Dominican parish is a good friend of mine, and he invited me to preach at a Memorial Mass for Fr. Bede Wilks, who was the first Dominican pastor here, in 1974.

I really have no idea how Dominicans were invited to Anchorage in the early 1970s, but I remember a group was asked to come up and look around. They were told we could have the care of any parish in the city. We chose the cathedral – not because it was the most elegant church in Anchorage (it wasn’t then, and it isn’t now) but because we felt its downtown location offered the best chance to minister to the greatest number of individuals. Fr. Bede and three or four others made their way north in June, 1974.

December 2011

Thu, 15 Dec 2011 12:46:02 -0800

From the Prior’s Window

I am, by most standards, a very cheerful person. However, I really dislike the dark days we are forced to endure in November and December. For that reason, today is one of my favorite days of the year. I suspect we are all familiar with the 12 Days of Christmas that end – or should end – on January 6^th. Less well-known are the 12 Days of Christmas that begin today.

Those other days of Christmas mark the day the sun begins to rise earlier in the morning; today we rejoice that it will begin to set later. If you consulted the almanac for Oakland today, you saw that the sun set at 4:50. Tomorrow it will set at 4:51. Our feast of Christmas, when we welcome the birth of the Light of the World, comes just between these other two days, when we welcome the return of light into our world.

November drew to a sad close, with the deaths of Br. Raymond Bertheaux and Fr. Bede Wilks. We were privileged to host the funerals for both of our brothers, and the numbers of their friends who attended the services was a great tribute to their lives and ministries. Br. Raymond was a magician: everyone he touched he turned into a friend. He worked in the Dominicn missions in South America, as well as the Order’s world headquarters in Rome. Wherever he was assigned he made friends.

November 2011

Tue, 15 Nov 2011 22:55:18 -0800

Feast of St. Albert the Great

In May, when I wrote my first installment of this personal newsletter, I promised I would offer regular comments on our life on Birch Court, as part of the Priory’s new and improved Web-page. Various delays held up the Website, and I nearly convinced myself I was “off the hook.” But then our new and technically-dedicated Student Master took over the Web-page project, and I suddenly found myself on the hook once again.

So, what have I watched from my window in the past five and a half months? Before I begin my answer, perhaps I ought to explain where my window is located, why I value it so highly, and why I consider it an appropriate title for these reflections. I have the immense good fortune to inhabit the room directly above the Birch Court entrance to the Priory. I am reluctant to say – or, at least, to admit – that I spy on what takes place on Birch Court, but the banner on the shield beneath my window says it all, or at least a great deal: “Vigilat, nec fatiscit” – “He watches and does not grow weary.”

May 2011

Fri, 20 May 2011 12:21:50 -0700

FROM THE PRIOR’S WINDOW
News from St. Albert’s

I often feel I deserve to be called “a bear a very little brain,” the nickname given Winnie-the Pooh, the eponymous hero of so many of our childhood stories. To be sure, I cannot recall being dragged downstairs by one foot, my head thumping on each step to mark my progress. However, I am notoriously slow to ask questions, and, as a result, often very slow to receive answers.

For example, my Dominican brothers have frequently remarked how well my predecessor, Fr. Michal Monschau, “kept up” with the many friends and benefactors of St. Albert’s Priory. I am more grateful than I can say for the friendships I’ve made –and renewed – since I arrived at St. Albert’s a year and some weeks ago, but people speak of Fr. Michael’s interaction with you in terms of such awe that I realize he related to more of you than I, and apparently in a far, far deeper way. I cannot tell why I have taken so long to ask the simple questions “why?” and “how?” but such are the ways of bears of very little brain.