Don’t just do something, sit there.
This is the title of a book by Sylvia Boorstein—a guide to crafting your own meditation retreat. But it also serves, I believe, as a perfect theme for the Feast of the Transfiguration, which the Church celebrates on August 6. In that Gospel moment, Peter wants to jump into action: Let us build three tents! But before he can follow through, a voice from heaven interrupts: This is my Son, the Beloved—listen to Him!

Last month, after Easter Sunday Mass, a beaming young girl greeted me with delight. With great excitement, she announced that soon she would no longer be coming to me in the Communion line with her arms crossed for a blessing. In May, she would celebrate her First Holy Communion—and she couldn’t wait to receive Jesus. For countless young Catholic boys and girls across the country, this month marks a momentous milestone in their faith development.

This month on the 22nd, the Church observes the Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter. The late Pope Benedict XVI explained the spiritual significance of this feast:
On [this feast] we give thanks to God for the mission he entrusted to the Apostle Peter and his Successors. “Cathedra” literally means the established seat of the Bishop, placed in the mother church of a diocese which for this reason is known as a “cathedral”; it is the symbol of the Bishop’s authority and in particular, of his “magisterium”, that is, the evangelical teaching which, as a successor of the Apostles, he is called to safeguard and to transmit to the Christian Community…

From my earliest years, I’ve been a fan of Aesop’s Fables. One entitled, The Horse and His Rider, told of a soldier who took great pains with his horse. As long as the war lasted, he looked upon him as his partner and fed him carefully with hay and corn. But when the war was over, he only allowed him chaff to eat, made him carry heavy loads, and subjected him to much slavish drudgery and ill-treatment. War, however, began again, and the sol- dier vested the horse in military trappings, and mounted, clad in his heavy armor. The horse fell down straight away under the weight, no longer equal to the burden, and said to his master, “You must now go to war on foot,

The feast of Saint Bartholomew the Apostle is celebrated this month on August 24. Tradition says that he was martyred, flayed alive. Although that is not a pleasant thought at all, it does explain why Michelangelo prominently featured the saint holding his flayed skin in the Last Judgment. All who view the painting should know that our skin is meant to be in the game, just as Bartholomew’s was. His martyrdom was the culmination of a life given to God from his heart to his dermis. It’s an example for us all.

Interestingly, in this month dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Church permits a memorial of her spouse, Saint Joseph the Worker. This feast seems particularly appropriate for our Benedictine motto of Ora et Labora. The first reading for the memorial includes: By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day, he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy,because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done. (Genesis 2:2-3)

Our holy Father Benedict urges us “during these days of Lent to keep [our] manner of life most pure and to wash away in this holy season the negligences of other times” (RB 49:2b-3). And, in his admonition to the abbot, Benedict cautions him to “avoid all favoritism in the monastery. He is not to love one more than another, …the abbot is to show equal love to everyone” (RB 2:16-17, 22). May I suggest this Lent that we miss “not a one, not a one.” By that, I mean that we overlook not a single opportunity for service, And when we practice our good works, we don’t “forget a one, not a single one,” but demonstrate equal charity for all. I assure you, this Lenten penance is “done with abbot’s approval” (RB 49:10). Scripture says that “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Matt. 20:28). Dare I paraphrase that to “the Son of Man came to give valentines, not to receive them!”

Life is full of difficult entries. For some it is difficult to enter into college or graduate school. For others it is hard to enter into financial stability. For many it is challenging to enter into the job market with suitable employment. Not long ago I found it difficult to find the correct entrance into a hospital, where I was hoping to visit a fellow monk. The parking lot and entry points had very much changed since I had last been there. When one door would not open for me, I walked to another side of the building, which happened to have an emergency entrance. Fortunately, some employees kept having doors opened for me until I found my way to a regular floor of the hospital. Often we need others to help us enter the doors that will lead us where we need to be!

A friend of mine always wanted to go on a cruise. After much saving, he booked a ten-day Caribbean cruise with his wife. About six weeks before they were to leave, Royal Caribbean sent him a DVD of the ship highlighting all the amenities and detailing all the ports of call. My friend was ecstatic! The DVD highlighted his excitement and heightened his anticipation. On the Solemnity of the Assumption this month, God doesn’t send us a DVD. But God does give us this amazing feast as a preview of where our destiny lies.

This month is dedicated to the Blessed Mother and fittingly ends with the Feast of the Visitation on May 31. In the gospel for that day we hear, Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste to a town of Judah, where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. (Luke 1:39) Recall the context: This Gospel follows the Annunciation, where Mary has just encountered the angel Gabriel, agreed to be the mother of Jesus, and conceived Him in her womb. For a young, unmarried teenager in any era, this is startling, even shocking, news. While most would want to fall to the floor and curl up in the fetal position for a good, long cry, Mary does not.

As I write this, we are still in the throes of winter; so an “arctic” story seems appropriate even though you will be reading this as we approach Lent.

Alfred Lansing authored a book that captivates the imagination of the reader as it tells an almost unbelievable story, Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage. The story starts in England, where explorer Ernest Shackleton is recruiting a crew to sail with him to the South Pole. By then, fabled British explorer Robert F. Scott had already perished with four of his colleagues in their attempt to be the first to reach it. Such exploration was not for the faint of heart.

As I write, the autumn beauty is at its peak. It seems to anticipate November, the month of All Souls. The colorful leaves reflect the impermanence of life. They remind us of the beauty and fragility of the cycle of life. They must let go and die in order to nourish new life in the spring. I read of a woman who developed a ritual using leaves as a symbol of those who have left us. She gathered a collection of autumn leaves, in different sizes, shapes, and colors. On some, she wrote the names of the deceased who played a role in her life. On others, she drew a simple heart shape for those whom she recalled but whose names she did not know. Others she left blank to symbolize the unknown. Then she created a bunting of the leaves and hung it from a tree where they moved softly in the breeze. She imagined the wind whispering their names and carrying them to the heavens.