Fresh Reflections on the Abbey as a Newish Jewish

I have been going to the St. Andrew’s Abbey in Valyermo, CA, for years, initially as part of a course in my MA-ORGL program at Gonzaga and then several times for Gonzaga alumni retreats. This past April, I had the opportunity to attend another alumni retreat with my Gonzaga friends, but this time was different (in enlightening ways) now that I am Jewish.

To be honest, this new fact never even crossed my mind before we started the retreat, so I didn’t even consider how different this experience at the retreat could be for me. I’ve never been Catholic, so I have always been a welcome “outsider” at both Gonzaga (a Jesuit university) and at the Benedictine monastery. By the way, the Rule of St. Benedict, the medieval document that sets out the rules of living at Benedictine monastery, highlights radical hospitality as a core value. So I have never felt unwelcome or “othered” in this community.

Bells & Communal Prayers

Seeing and experiencing the rhythm of the Abbey through Jewish eyes certainly gave me a new perspective. To be honest, at one point, I thought laughingly, Why am I hanging out with all of these Catholics? Like Gonzaga, Catholic ways of being and knowing are woven into the fabric of daily life at the Abbey, so previously, as a never-Catholic and barely-Mormon, there were many things I was not used to (scheduled prayers, chanting, singing the Psalms, the Grand silence, etc.). But this time, everything hit a little bit different.

We arrived in the afternoon to settle in, so the first bells we heard were the bells alerting us to the pre-dinner prayers called “Vespers.” The bells that alert everyone that the scheduled prayers start in 5 minutes reminded me of the alarms that I have on my smartphone that ring at the same time to remind me to pause and pray. If I were a more observant Jew, I would also connect the dots that certain prayers are said at certain times of the day. In the Catholic tradition, these structured communal prayers are known as the “Divine Office” or “Liturgy of the Hours.”

As I attended all of these communal prayers (Vigils at 6 a.m., Lauds at 7:30 a.m., Mass at 12 p.m., Vespers at 5:30 p.m. and Compline at 7:30 p.m.), I noticed such similarities to Jewish traditions. For example, bowing your body forward when the name of G-d was said/sung and Tehillim (Psalm) readings. In fact, the stained glass windows that flank the front of the chapel nearly mimic the style of the Marc Chaggal windows at Hadassah hospital in Jerusalem.

When I attended Compline on the first evening of the retreat, they chanted the Catholic Confiteor prayer saying, “My fault, my fault, my most grievous fault” — all while making a fist with their right hand and pound their chest on the world “fault.” I looked around and thought, Is this Yom Kippur when we chant the Viddui with the same hand motions? I was pretty blown away by the connections to Jewish tradition.

The Grand Silence & Sacred Time

Each night after compline begins the Grand Silence, where speaking, music and all forms of noise are forbidden (well, it’s highly discouraged for retreatants). At first, this Grand Silence is intimidating, especially because there is no WiFi and phone service is spotty at best. One must sit with their own thoughts, read, contemplate and just “be” without anything or anyone to distract us. This “digital detox” reminded me of some aspects of Shabbat - disconnecting with the “world” and cultivating a sacred space for rest and spiritual reflection, where one can connect with the Divine; a “cathedral in time” as Abraham Joshual Heschel references in his book “The Sabbath”, a concept that refers to the idea that the Jewish Sabbath can be a sacred space, not built of stone, but built in time.

Side note: Dr. Horsman told me that Robert Greenleaf and Abraham Joshua Heschel were friends! I need to research that more!

I have come to love the Grand Silence at the Abbey. I pray, meditate, connect with the Divine in my own way, and go to sleep early so I am restored and refreshed for the 6 a.m. Vigils.

Lectio Divina & the Breath of Life

I have always connected to the practice of Lectio Divina (or “Divine Reading”, a Jesuit practice of contemplative reading, meditation and prayer. The 5 steps of Lectio Divina are 1) Silencio (Prepare); 2) Lectio (Read); 3) Meditatio (Meditate); 4) Oratio (Pray); and 5) Contemplatio (Contemplate). I would like to cultivate a regular personal practice of Lectio Divina, but it has not happened just yet.

At the Abbey, I used the Mishkan T’filah for Travellers (the Reform movement’s siddur) for my Lectio practice that I completed in the morning, between Vigils and Lauds. On the morning of the second day I read and meditated on a morning prayer from the siddur about nefesh r’uach (breath of life), reflecting on our our Soul is given directly to us — breathed into us — by HaShem. HaShem is always with us because HaShem is within us. Our souls are illuminated because of HaShem’s Breath of Life.

Throughout the rest of the day, the concept of nefesh r’uach kept coming up in our group dialogue and even in my Nature walk by the river. I was drawn to what I would call a tree of “dead wood” that looked like a human heart. Once I got closer to the tree I saw another tree that I would have not otherwise seen. The deadwood of that tree was shaped like lungs. When I got closer to that tree, I observed that the loads of bark naturally shorn off from the tree. What I thought was “dead” from a distances turned out to actually be NEW once I got close. The fresh bark of the tree was smooth as a baby’s skin.

I also felt like the heart and the lung trees were reminders from the Divine to take care of my physical health (for vibrance and vitality) and my spiritual, emotional and mental health. Nature speaks to us. We need to listen to what it is trying to teach us. We need to create sacred time to connect with Nature to connect with the Divine.

The next morning I went back to the trees with my siddur, and doing t’filah by those trees brought me so much joy — that’s a feeling I don’t normally experience. The running spiritual theme for the time I was at the Abbey was the “breath of life”, reminding me that G-d is always with me. HaShem animates my Soul and never leaves me, even if I feel depleted and defeated. The morning Modah Ani prayer (when you say upon waking) speaks to the gratitude we have because G-d has restored our Souls to us every morning. “My Soul came to me pure, drawn from the reservoir of the holy”… all the time G-d remains within me.

I joyfully sang “Oseh Shalom” and “HaTikvah” and danced because of the joy, invigoration and exuberance I felt knowing I am with G-d always. May the key to keeping up this joy in my heart is being consistent with my morning t’filah.

Lech L’Cha - Go Forth

Another running theme for me during the retreat was to “Go Forth”. Dr. Horsman invited us to reflect on how we show up as servant leaders in the world. What do we do with our knowledge? How do we inspire those around us to be servant leaders too? Because we have this insight and training, it is almost like we have a duty to radiate love and peace in the world. Also, like Yogi Bajan taught, “there is a way through every block”, we must continue onwards and “Go Forth” despite barriers and setbacks. I will write more about this at another time.

One Year since my Mikveh

During the retreat, I celebrated the one-year anniversary (6th day of Nissan according to the Hebrew calendar) of my immersion into the Mikveh and my formal conversion to Judaism. I did an extra special Lectio that day, singing t’filah and dancing with joy in my heart that I am a beloved child of HaShem — literally embodying the feelings in my head and heart. As I write this now, two months after my time at the Abbey, I can feel that ultimate sense of joy and feelings of inspiration and invigoration returning to my heart. Who would ever think that I could feel more connected to my Judaism than ever before — all while at a Benedictine monastery?! The Abbey is a truly sacred space.