Search

Being Benedictine

Living SoulFully as an Oblate of St. Benedict

Open Search
Author

Jodi Blazek Gehr

SoulCollage® Facilitator, Benedictine Oblate of Christ the King Priory, Retreat Leader at St. Benedict Center, Blogger at Being Benedictine and SoulFully You, Teacher, Mother, Wife, Friend, Lover of learning, reading, creativity and spirituality.

Ooh, I Wonder

Ooh, I wonder
What is to come, out of this darkness
I’ve been moving moving moving moving through the darkness…
I wonder when the light is cracking open..
(Wonder by S. Nutting/ K. Longaker)

The first verse to the song Wonder by Ma’Muse poses questions about the “dark night of the soul” that most of us experience at some point in our lives. Whether it is melancholy, depression, fear, or grief that grips us, we wonder: When is this going to end? What is going to come out of this darkness? What comes next? When will we see relief from our suffering? When will there be more light than dark?

The song continues.

I thought this candle had long gone out…
But today today today today I can see
There’s still a flickering flickering

Today I saw a flickering, just a little light cracking open, after some weeks of darkness.

I had just finished reading a new poem from Ana Lisa de Jong, when Wonder came up in my Spotify playlist. The poem, Ceaseless Wonders, offers insights into when light may come.

CEASELESS WONDERS
Wonders never cease,
while we are sleeping
or awake in rumination
wonders are not ceasing
Wonders will not cease
until wonders are not needed,
meanwhile wonders are the signpost
to the Wonderful.
Wonders in the breath,
which has exhaled us into being,
and wonder in the
breath that keeps us living.
Wonder in the breath
of the fresh new morning,
the birds who sing of the
restoration of creation.
Wonders will not cease
while time keeps unfolding.
Time left ahead
assures us of wonder’s returning.
And wonders never cease
as darkness precedes the morning,
the morning star
points us to light’s dawning,
and the rounding sun,
which hardly falters in its momentum,
though wonders seem far flung
and courage is ebbing.

-Ana Lisa de Jong, Living Tree Poetry, February 2025

The synchronistic moment of the song and poem coming together was itself, a glimpse of light, my 2025 word of the year. Experiencing synchronicity is a holy surprise, an inkling of something more, a nudge to pay attention, to look and listen deeply. Perhaps this is a glimpse, a reminder, that darkness will pass with time because darkness always precedes the morning. Wonders will not cease/while time keeps unfolding. Time left ahead/assures us of wonder’s returning.

During this time of darkness, wonders never cease, are not ceasing, will not cease. The wonder is our breath. We can use our breath as prayer—the literal inhale and exhale, that takes us from one moment to the next, from this day to the next, from night into morning. We continue to

Burn burn burn burn on the inside
Burn burn burn burning like a bright light
Burn burn burn burn on the inside
This light’s still burning, burning bright
I thought this candle had long gone out…
but today i can see, there’s more than a flickering

Our longing for hope, peace, and light becomes the prayer. And in times of darkness, our purpose is not to question our lack of courage or hope, but instead to bring wonder as fuel to burn like a bright light, to keep the flame alive. Yes, I wonder and I wonder.

2

Lower Your Nets: Do Not Be Afraid

February 2025 Oblate Reflections

Lectio Divina: Luke 5: 1-11

Each of us in our Oblate community comes to a Lectio Divina discussion from our personal experience of the Divine. The beauty of Lectio is that the reading, insights, and discussion fall differently on each of our hearts. When we practice Lectio Divina, we learn from each other by sharing a word or phrase that resonates. We see a deeper meaning to the reading with each contribution as we “listen with the ear of the heart.” (RB Prologue) What resonated with our group:

“The crowd was pressing in…put out a short distance from the shore.” Sometimes what we bear seems so much. Perhaps we could break our feelings, responsibilities, or worries into smaller pieces. Jesus only asks us to go a short distance–taking on only what we need to while trusting that when we go into deeper waters, God will be with us. Even Jesus sat down for a bit to continue his teaching. We learn from his example: our work sometimes requires distance and healthy boundaries from others. We must listen and discern.

“We have worked hard all night.” In times of weariness, feeling overworked, defeated, or unsuccessful, we must carefully listen for the hopeful words of Jesus. The first word in the Rule of St. Benedict is “Listen”—he knew that we cannot go out into deep waters alone. We find encouragement in pausing, resting, and receiving help from others.

Continue reading “Lower Your Nets: Do Not Be Afraid” →
2

Feast of St. Brigid and Holy Wells

A Celtic saint and pre-Christian goddess, Brigid was a 5th-century abbess and founder of monasteries. One of Ireland’s three patron saints along with St. Patrick and St. Columba, St. Brigid is known by many names —Bhride, Bride, Brighid, Brigid, Bridget—and many titles including Muire na nGael (Mary of the Irish) Brigid of the Mantle, Brigid of the Fire, and Mary of the Gael.

February 1, St. Brigid’s death anniversary, is the same day as the Celtic Feast of Imbolc. Imbolc, a celebration of the Celtic sun goddess Brigid is the halfway point between the Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere. Imbolc, which means “in the belly”, celebrates the change of seasons, a threshold time of welcoming more sunlight in the day.

It is not by chance that these two celebrations are on the same day. St. Brigid has been described as a bridge between the pre-Christian and Christian traditions. The stories we hold of St. Brigid blend archetype, legend, and history, an amalgamation of the threshold time when Celtic traditions were being adapted and/or replaced by Christianity.

Thousands of holy wells, many dedicated to St. Brigid, are a pilgrimage destination in Ireland. On St. Brigid’s Day, it was a tradition to visit the nearest holy well to ask for healing and fertility in the family, with livestock and crops. Those suffering from illness would offer rosaries, icons, letters, and more with prayers for their healing. Celts believed that the festival of Imbolc and sites like holy wells were a “thin place” where God’s presence could be deeply felt.

A highlight of a 2024 pilgrimage to Ireland included visiting two holy wells dedicated to St. Brigid. Near the Cliffs of Moher, in Liscannor, we visited one of the oldest of the 3000 holy wells in Ireland, one of the few still flowing with water, known for its healing powers. Hiking near the Cliffs with the Atlantic Ocean to the west, and cows and sheep grazing to the east, would have been what Brigid and the many pilgrims have experienced over the past 1500 years.

Continue reading “Feast of St. Brigid and Holy Wells” →
1

Remembering Steven Gehr: OK. I know. Good. OK.

Steven Gehr, my husband’s oldest brother at 66 years old, passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday, January 26, 2025. After a tragic accident, Steve was placed on a ventilator to assist his breathing, and within hours it was breathing for him. It was clear that letting Steve go was the best decision; he would be physically unable to live the joyful, carefree life he knew. The oldest child of seven children born to Marvin and Mary Gehr, Steve was born with intellectual disabilities. Steve was the center of the family, bringing everyone together in the spirit of joy with his huge grin and infectious laugh. His joy was everyone’s joy.

The Gehr Family, circa 1966. Steve stands between his mom and dad. Baby Kathy and I are the same age. In order, left to right–David, Karen, Diane, Mary/Kathy, Steve, Marvin, Alan and my husband, Joe…looking a little grumpy. Edit: Joe and his brother David look so much alike NOW that I mixed them up in the above photo. Joe, my husband, is on the left (isn’t he adorable?) and Dave is on the right. Their sisters said they had pre-arranged to look grumpy. LOL

Steve’s life became the seed for new life when he was approved to be an organ donor. The decision to pursue the organ donation process was influenced by our family experience of loss just two years ago. Alan, Steve’s brother, lost his life partner Greg when he passed waiting for a liver transplant. It was a difficult few days waiting for organ recipient arrangements, but knowing others will receive Steve’s liver and kidneys brings peace.

There is so much we love about Steve.

Steve got excited about things that were special to him—visits to the Goodwill to look for records, family gatherings, trips to McDonald’s (cheeseburger, French fries, Diet Coke), opening Christmas presents, having a Diet Coke or red coffee (the Folgers label that has caffeine.) The simplest things brought him so much joy, and his joy lit up the room.

Steve loved family get-togethers. When he returned to Glenwood, where he lived in a group home, he would already be talking about his next visit. In the fall, he envisioned Thanksgiving dinner, reciting the line-up of menu items, ticking off the list by counting on his hand—turkey, mashed potatoes, salad, white dressing (Ranch, which he could eat by the spoonful), pumpkin pie, and so on.

Continue reading “Remembering Steven Gehr: OK. I know. Good. OK.” →
7

2025 Word of the Year: LIGHT

The soulful ritual of asking for a word of the year never fails to bring new ways of seeing. What I learn from pondering one word could fill a library of books; synchronicity is my teacher. Last year I wrote, “I trust that the word, as it settles in my heart, will be a guiding light for months to come—challenging, inspiring, and transforming me.”

This ancient spiritual practice invites attentive listening. Around the beginning of December, my word-of-the-year radar activates as I await a word that shimmers with possibility. I had considered peace or hope, as I long for both. While on retreat, images came together into a SoulCollage® card I titled Hope: Rest in the Light.

Perhaps LIGHT I wondered, but I was skeptical it could be the “guiding light” I wrote of, as cliché and overused it is. Light at the end of the tunnel. Light of my life. Out like a light. Come to the light. Go to the light. In light of. See the light. Shed a little light. Taken lightly. Shine your light. Light a fire under your… and so on.

I reflect on the card, listening for the wisdom it holds. It is our journey to carry the light. We are embodied with Christ-light. Rest in the light. Patiently wait. Holding the light is sharing the light. Words and phrases that resonate come together in the following poem.

Wisdom I received from the card: It is our journey to carry the light. We are embodied with Christ light. Rest in the light. Patiently wait. Holding the light is sharing the light. 

Hope: Rest in the Light
The Divine dwells within
Safeguard the light
Wait expectantly, keep watch
Shimmer like silver and gold.

Safeguard the light
Angel wings whisper hope
Shimmer like silver and gold
Light-bearer.

Angel wings whisper hope
Wait expectantly, keep watch
Light-bearer
The Divine dwells within.

The circular rhythm of the pantoum poem provides a roadmap for hope. It begins and ends with the reminder that the Divine dwells within me; I am a light-bearer. Knowing there is more to unpack from the card and poem, LIGHT finds a resting place as my 2025 word of the year.

You are the Light
In a recent study of The Interior Castle, written by Teresa of Avila, I was struck with awe by the commentary of the castle as the dwelling place for God. “We are structured in such a way that God lives in his own dwelling place with us, more so than he does in the whole cosmos….We are not merely sparks of God, but God actually lives in us and makes us beautiful by his light.” (The Interior Castle, Study Edition, Kieren Kavanaugh)

Joan Chittister writes, “…we are the stardust of the Creator and we are made to burn and light, to sparkle and shine, to be warmth and fearlessness as tonight fades into all the tomorrows of our lives.” We are made of stardust; we are meant to shine, to bring light, hope, love and courage to those we encounter.

Be the Light
We are born for each other—to reflect the loving-kindness and compassion we have received in our moments of darkness. I will never forget the seemingly small gestures, the gentle wiping of a tear or the squeeze of a hand or encouraging words that helped me glimpse enough light to carry on. We can be the light for others.

Continue reading “2025 Word of the Year: LIGHT” →
1

Let’s Turn Our Thoughts Today to Martin Luther King: Shed a Little Light, oh Lord!

On January 20, 2025, we inaugurate this country’s 47th president and we honor the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. —advocate for social justice, racial harmony and equality, civil rights, and non-violent resistance. This post is dedicated to the hope, light, and inspiration of Martin Luther King in art, music, and poetry.

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: Only love can do that” –MLK

ART: Icon of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. from Kelly Latimore Icons (featured image).
May this icon remind us that prophets are still among us here and now calling us to change, toward action and the hard work of reconciliation. In this icon King stands below the Little and Big Dipper. Pointing to the North Star. ( “IC XC” is the iconographers Greek abbreviation for Jesus Christ)

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”–MLK

POETRY: The Birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr.

by Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

Between a president who recently died
and one about to begin
we remember a man who was never president.

(We notice the harmonies, and the dissonances.)
See how our choices matter—
not our position, nor our power, but our character.

We remember Martin, who was famous,
and in his name thousands more who were not,
but just as brave and merciful and mighty.

We remember all those who were peacemakers,
the nonviolent seekers of justice who have gone before,
and those who are now among us, without office.

We give thanks for those who stood against injustice,
who faced violence, hatred and anger with gentle courage,
and we pray for that spirit as well,

that we will not walk with the haughty and the cruel,
that we will be truthful and kind,
that we confront the power to exclude with the power to love.

With blessed leaders showing us the way,
we pray that we will choose love over fear,
generosity over selfishness, service over supremacy.

We give thanks for the saints who have gone before,
link arms with the saints who risk even now,
and with their song in our throats, we carry on.

“We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice” –MLK

MUSIC: Shed a Little Light by James Taylor

Oh, let us turn our thoughts today to Martin Luther King
And recognize that there are ties between us
All men and women, living on the earth
Ties of hope and love, sister and brotherhood

That we are bound together
In our desire to see the world become
A place in which our children can grow free and strong
We are bound together by the task that stands before us
And the road that lies ahead
We are bound, and we are bound

Continue reading “Let’s Turn Our Thoughts Today to Martin Luther King: Shed a Little Light, oh Lord!” →
1

Atoms of Delight: A Pilgrimage to Iona

It was truly a dream to visit the sacred sites of Iona on a Celtic spirituality pilgrimage to Ireland and Scotland. Getting to Iona is a pilgrimage in itself, yet the journey has been made countless times since the 7th century. Most tourists visit for only a day, like we did, traveling from the coastal town of Oban, Scotland to Craignure on the Isle of Mull, then taking an hour-long bus ride on winding, narrow roads to the other side of the island arriving at the village of Fionnphort. From there, a foot ferry delivers you to the island of Iona. The day’s last ferry departs around 4:30 in the afternoon for the two-and-a-half-hour trip back to Oban. If the ferry is missed at the end of the day, staying overnight on the island is your only option.

Both the ferry and bus ride provided tremendous views. Our bus needed to occasionally pull over to the side of the narrow roads when meeting other vehicles.

Iona is the birthplace of Christianity in Scotland where St. Columba established an Abbey in 563. It might seem like a lot to get to this holy isle, only three miles long and one and a half miles wide, but walking the ground where St. Columba did 1500 years ago, where Benedictines established a monastery in 1204, the place where artists, sculptors, and writers have been inspired for centuries, is a holy, singular experience.

While I longed for more time to wander the beaches and secret coves, the time allowed for visits only to the most well-known sites closest to the ferry landing. Still, our pilgrimage group was able to participate in a meaningful community prayer for peace and reconciliation at the Abbey and visit the Nunnery ruins, St. Oran’s chapel, museums, gardens, and quaint shops including a bookstore, a “must-see” destination on my mini-pilgrimage to Iona.

Months earlier, when I was planning the sites to visit in Ireland, a Benedictine Oblate friend, poet and photographer, Pat Leyko Connelly, reached out about some of her favorite experiences from her trips to Ireland. Pat and I connected through our shared love of Benedictine and Celtic spirituality, and she was generous in sharing tips about places to see in Ireland. When she learned I would also visit Oban and Iona in Scotland, she exclaimed that I must meet with her poet friend Kenneth Steven. Pat could not say enough wonderful things about his poetry. She also hoped I could bring back his newest book “Atoms of Delight” from the bookstore on Iona for her. Kenneth and I exchanged several messages and hoped to connect when I was there (unfortunately, our schedules didn’t allow it, but hopefully there is a next time!)

Visiting a bookstore is one of my favorite things to do, and I was just as excited about browsing book titles on this holy ground as praying in the abbey. The little bookstore was at the end of the walking trail, Sràid nam Marbh (‘Street of the Dead’,) where pilgrims have been walking for centuries. I quickly found THE book, took a photo of it to send to Pat, found another book by John Philip Newell for my friend Ellen, packed both of them away for my journey back to Oban, and later loaded them with all the souvenirs and other books I had purchased for the journey back home.

Continue reading “Atoms of Delight: A Pilgrimage to Iona” →
1

The Longest Night

The winter solstice is the precise moment when the sun is situated exactly over the Tropic of Capricorn, seemingly at a standstill. The word solstice is derived from the Latin word sol, meaning sun, and sisterre, meaning standstill. We know that time does not really stand still, but time is a marker, an occasion of turning from and turning towards. This moment cannot be contained, sustained, or paused. Time is motion; it marches on.

There are moments in our lives when our great darkness feels interminable, infinite, beyond, and outside of time. “In the interior wintertime, we can easily lose heart, stop believing in our goodness, forget about our resilience, and discount the presence of those who love us. There is often sadness, loneliness, and a depletion of joy. This is the season of grief and depression, of searching and struggle.” (The Circle of Life: The Hearts Journey Through the Seasons, Joyce Rupp & Macrina Wiederkehr) It can be reassuring that just as the astronomical start to winter begins, the solstice gives way to longer days and the darkness will yield to a promised light. So we hope with us.

Continue reading “The Longest Night” →
3

Homecoming: A SoulFully You Retreat

We long for the acceptance of home, a place of peace where we can be truly ourselves–seen and heard, loved and believed, held and yet free. Our longing is the existential homesickness that THIS isn’t all there is and that when we get a taste of unconditional acceptance and love, we want more. Our longings are good and holy—it is our Divine inheritance to experience all that it means to feel at home.

Inspired by the lyrics of Homesick, a song by friend Jana West, my annual Advent retreat was titled Homecoming: A SoulFully You Retreat. We explored how the Divine accompanies us, making a home within, and what it means to feel homesick or “at home” with ourselves and others. I offer some of our reflections so you, too, can take part:

“Love is home. Home is both an external dwelling and an internal abode. Home is the place where we belong, our place of acceptance and welcome. There, in this shame and judgment-free embryonic cocoon of love, we practice unconditional acceptance; we learn to relate to ourselves and the world around us.

And home is a soft place for the body to land, a safe place for the soul to fully disrobe. Home is the place where our failures don’t kill, our sins can’t crush, and even when we are at our worst, we’re safe. Home is a place where we are free to take our deepest, fullest, least encumbered breath.

At home, there’s no need to guess whether we’re in or out, welcomed or not. Home always prepares a place with us in mind.” (Center for Action and Contemplation, Home, 5/10/2024, Felicia Murrel)


What words or phrases resonate with you? Indeed, our personal experiences of home can bring a spectrum of feelings, from warm and fuzzy to sadness or terror, when we consider what being “at home” means. The ideal is what we seek and long for, both within ourselves and with others.

Continue reading “Homecoming: A SoulFully You Retreat” →
0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑