CISTERCIAN WOODS - Christmas Eve

December 24, 2002

For you have preserved my soul

From the pit of nothingness,

You have thrust all my sins behind you.

(Isaiah 38,17)

My last full day here. I could happily stay but, knowing that the time to leave is approaching, I’m nearly ready to go. There’s a time for everything. I can’t believe where the time has gone.

The sky in the east looks clear for the sunrise and the morning star shines now directly above the church like a promise, a single bird sings with great life. I’m alone in the guesthouse. It’s very tranquil.

***

The morning has been absolutely beautiful, sunshine and no cold - just like Spring. The Lord has been very kind in these weeks, having led me to this lovely place of peace and prayer, a place in which I have felt completely at home. It’s a little miracle in itself that, despite the cold, my head, sinus and gums have been fine, thank God.

Catriona, the 13 year old girl with Leukemia, whom Emmet asked me to pray for, is now in a coma. He has gone to anoint her. What a time for her parents. God help them and her.

There’s a wind rising, with clouds gathering and a pale sun filters through the trees.

The guesthouse has been very peaceful with only Lionel and myself around. Maggie came for a visit in the afternoon, stayed for vespers and tea. It was nice and relaxing and we had a good chat. I talked a lot about Maura and I feel well about her this year. Travelling Light is on forgiveness today. I forgive and will have to keep on forgiving a certain man but I think he scorns every attempt we have made to be on good terms with him and the more we have tried the more he despises us. I think we are too willing to let him and others walk all over us. And having thought that, I prayed the Office of Readings which had this to say: 

…of your back you made a pavement,

A street for them to walk on

(Isaiah 52)

***

At 10.30 p.m. I joined the monks for Vigils - my first time getting to them since arriving - and afterwards was invited by Nivard to have a mug of tea in the refectory. Another little privilege! A spoon of tealeaves into the mug with hot water on top. He gave me a chair at one of the long tables and I got a piece of cake. All the monks sit with their backs to the wall, with no one facing them at table, and they always eat in silence, except that every so often one would break the silence and come to ask in a whisper if I needed anything else. There were smiles all around. A huge Christmas tree with coloured blinking lights stands behind the table where the Abbot sits.

Tomorrow they will celebrate here, without turkey, and they will sit around for the evening singing. Lionel will join them.

For Midnight Mass the church was full, the celebration being led by Abbot Laurence who “twined” our celebration with that of the women prisoners taking place at the same time in Mountjoy.

Again the flow and pace of the Liturgy is very inspiring and reflective, drawing forth from deep within a sense of joy, a joy that is waiting to dance. Going to receive the chalice I felt like dancing  - imagined Shirley asking, May I have this dance? There is something about joy that is not given immediate expression. It becomes a force, a power, like the Word imprisoned like fire in the bones of Jeremiah - it breaks forth in its own moment.

Got to bed at 1.30 a.m.