Reflections from the Abbot : Open Doors

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Today I am writing to you from Korea where my own Congregation is holding a general chapter at the abbey of Waegwan, with 130 monks one of the larger communities of the order. The chapter had become necessary because the Ottilien Congregation needed to find a new abbot president after I became Abbot Primate. You will find more news about this in the Benedictine News and Elections section of this issue of NEXUS.

Korea is in some turmoil right now because the president tried to undermine the democratic institutions of the country by declaring martial law a month ago. The institutions proved resilient, however, and the president is currently under arrest while the next steps are being negotiated. This is just one of the many instances of a world that seems to be changing dramatically, and sadly one of the more harmless ones.

Since last Christmas, our Catholic Church has opened five Holy Doors into this world. They are doors of mercy, open reminders of the presence and approachability of God. Everyone is invited to cross the thresholds of these Holy Doors, regardless of their creed. At St Peter’s alone, more than half a million walked through the Holy Door in the first few days, and a few days ago I saw a long queue outside St Mary Major. On January 5th I went to the basilica of St Paul’s Outside the Walls where the last of these doors was opened. Cardinal Harvey, the archpriest of the basilica, presided over the dignified ceremony. St Paul’s is of course the site of a living Benedictine community. Many confreres from Sant’Anselmo and other Benedictine houses came together to join the monks of the abbey and to walk through the open gate of God’s love as a community. I was deeply touched by the symbolism of this open door. It does not need much explanation. All cultures have an understanding of the importance of doors, gates and thresholds, the Latin word for which has given us the adjective “liminal” to describe an experience of transition. Everybody grasps what it means that a door has been opened.

Pope Francis has placed this Holy Year under the motto of Pilgrimage of Hope. The papal bull with which he announed this year of grace was entitled: Spes Non Confundit. Hope Does Not Disappoint. For us Benedictines, the Latin resonates with the text of the Suscipe, the antiphon which in so many of our monasteries is sung during the rite of profession. Et ne confundas me ab exspectatione mea. Do not let me be confounded in my hope. A very Benedictine jubilee, then. Let us hope so.

I was recently reminded of the fact that hope is not a grace or a gift, but rather a virtue. We don’t talk a lot about virtues these days, and maybe we have to return to virtues more forcefully. In any case, virtues – rather than being simply a gift from above, are the result of consistent practice. Something to train and to work on, or part of our ascetic practice, in other words. I find this rather topical. Every now and then I hear from monks and others that they are discouraged when they hear leaders and confreres speak rather flippantly about being the last ones of their community, or about someone having to turn the light out when everyone is gone. “Who is still going to be here in 20 years time?” Well, no one if these voices gain the upper hand, that much is clear. I do not think we should lie to ourselves about the perspectives of some of our communities. But there is a difference between sober realism – which is a way of exercising truthful humility – and flippant and cynical talk that demoralizes and saps the strength and energy and good will of the brethren. There is perhaps a way to implement the Holy Year: by fostering and nurturing hope, not as blind optimism, but as a way of keeping doors open for God’s action in our lives and in our communities.

Very fraternally,

Abbot Jeremias OSB
Abbot Primate