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Flowers and Fear, Side by Side

January 2026 Oblate Reflections, Christ the King Priory, Schuyler, Nebraska

Theme: Balance and Moderation; Lectio Divina: Matthew 6: 25-34

Sources: Wisdom Distilled from the Daily, Joan Chittister, Chapter 6 “Monastic Mindfulness: A Blend of Harmony, Wholeness, Balance; In place of confusing life patterns, the security of a healthy balance – The Holy Rule of St. Benedict Podcast w/ Fr. Mauritius Wilde, OSB

Our Lectio Divina reading mentions ‘worry’ six times. Our default emotion can be to worry in the face of an uncertain future, when we fear the worst or feel there may not be enough time, money, food, or stuff. Some of us worry more than others. We are constantly fed cultural and marketing messages that tell us we will be more comfortable if we buy this, more admired if we buy that, safer if we own this, and happier with that. When do we have enough? How do we find a balance? What is the secret to less worry?

So often, we worry about what we have no control over, and our stewing does not change the outcome. Only our peace of mind and heart are disturbed. Joan Chittister writes, “We’re a people who lack awareness. We’re a world that has lost a sense of balance…To live a life of Benedictine awareness means we must come to see what we cannot. To the monastic mind, everything speaks of God. What I have and what I do not have. What I want and what I do not want….Life takes a sense of significance and a happy admission of insignificance.”

We matter. Our wants and our needs matter, yet we are not the center of the universe. We are significant and insignificant simultaneously. Humbly, we must admit that we are not in control of everything, everyone, or every outcome. Things happen, but God accompanies. Our worry does not help. Our controlling tendencies do not get us what we want. Our worry, in fact, is an impediment to living our present moment most fully.

In Matthew 6, it is written, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?  Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

These words can be comforting and a reminder that we can only do so much. We can put into action only what we can and let be what we cannot change. Recognizing and naming our emotions of worry and fear can be helpful. “Awareness of the sacred in life is what holds our world together and the lack of awareness and sacred care is what is tearing it apart,” writes Chittister.

Our attention is the first step. When we notice our attachment to physical things, habits, routines, our desire to fix, help, or solve, God is with us as we face our life in truth. Life gives us grief and uncertainty, over and over again. We must accept that this is part of the whole picture of our lives.

Chittister writes about a stained-glass window in the chapel of her monastery — each window carries a different concept, meaning, and design, yet they are not in conflict with one another. It is the light that gives each segment its integrity, blending them together as one. “What is it that makes for unity among the many opposing energies we meet in life that could instead become just so many instances of noisy clash and conflict? What is it that brings life together and nature and people together and the world together and nature together?”

Continue reading “Flowers and Fear, Side by Side” →
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10 Reasons Benedictines Love Silence

I carefully consider everything that I write and share here, especially the more personal or contentious reflections. I rarely write and post on the same day. Not so with my speech. I find myself saying often enough, “Did I just say that out loud?” Words fly out of my mouth much faster than they flow from my pen or keyboard.

 Perhaps this is why I enjoy journaling and writing so much. It slows my mind down. In silence, I can be more deliberate, careful, and organized in what I share. A healthy respect for silence could save me some angst in times when my mouth works faster than my mind.

At our annual oblate retreat, with the theme “Building Community Through Our Oblate Promises,” the importance of silence was the topic of the opening session led by Fr. Thomas Leitner, the administrator of St. Benedict Center and a monk who lives at the monastery across the road. Throughout the weekend, we would learn about and practice silence.

Why is silence so fundamental to Benedictine spirituality?

Silence is the way to self-knowledge. A discipline of silence confronts us with ourselves. “Silence is a way for us to put up with ourselves the way we are. Not everything that comes to mind at times of silence is pleasant. Repressed needs and wishes may come up, repressed anger, and perhaps missed opportunities,” Fr. Thomas shared. Silence gives our wounds space to surface, allowing us time to wrestle with and soothe our pain in healthy ways. Silence allows us to see ourselves unfiltered without the influence of others.

In The Interior Castle, St. Teresa of Avila uses imagery of a castle for our soul, emphasizing “how necessary this room (of self-knowledge) is…we shall never completely know ourselves if we don’t strive to know God.” She writes that God dwells within us, and to know God, we must first know ourselves. Hard, but necessary, work to “know thyself,” as the ancient Greek maxim suggests.

Silence connects us to the Divine. Seventh-century bishop and theologian, St. Isaac of Syria, writes:

Try to enter into your treasure house
and you will see the treasure of heaven.
For both the one and the other are the same,
and the one and the same entrance reveals them both.
The ladder leading to the kingdom is within you,
that is, in your soul.

We enter this “treasure house,” our very soul, through the practice of prayer. Some of us may be conditioned to think of prayer as a transactional bubble-gum-machine approach to asking God for what we want. We put in a coin; God supplies the big gumball. Our prayers are “answered.” Yet this is not the kind of prayer that leads to self-knowledge or to a connection with God. Consider a poem by the 19th-century Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard that points to a different kind of prayer.

As my prayer
became more and more devout and interior,
there was less and less I had to say.
Finally I became completely still.

I became—
this is perhaps an even greater contrast to talking—
I became a listener.

First I thought praying is talking.
I learned, however, that praying is not only silence,
but listening.

That’s the way it is:
Praying does not mean hearing oneself speak,
praying means becoming still and being still
and waiting until I hear God.

-Søren Kierkegaard

Silence builds confidence and leads to self-respect.

“As my prayer became more and more devout and interior,” I come to know myself with greater depth. This knowing builds my confidence: I have been created just as I am, in the image of God. I forgive myself for weaknesses and celebrate my gifts. I seek less approval from others. I have “less and less” to say to justify, convince, or plead my case of worthiness to myself or others.

Teacher, writer, and friend, Parker Palmer, writes, “One of our most debilitating illusions (is) that the answer to our problems is always ‘out there’ somewhere, never ‘in here.’ It’s an illusion that’s constantly reinforced by educational and religious institutions that make us dependent on “experts” and “authorities.” We need not look for knowledge in others; we can trust our own interiority, the Divine Expert Within. I can grow in self-respect, knowing God is within me, intimately speaking to me when I am silent long enough.

Continue reading “10 Reasons Benedictines Love Silence” →
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To Love and Be Loved: The Monk and The Marriage

But now faith, hope, and love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love. –1 Corinthians 13:13

This scripture verse is one of the most frequently read at wedding ceremonies, but it is meant for more than those getting married. We are created to love and be loved—all of us, no matter who we are or our chosen paths in life, whether monk or married.

Our deepest longing is to be loved. Love is the thread that runs through all the world’s religions. In Christianity, the Great Commandment is to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” and to “love your neighbor as yourself.” 

Several years ago, during spiritual direction with Benedictine monk, Fr. Mauritius Wilde, we discussed, despite our different vocations, how much we have in common. We each have a holy longing—to love God, to have a healthy love for ourselves, and to give and receive love. Practically speaking, we are the same age, we are both teachers and retreat leaders, have one brother, have the same middle name (Marie—seriously, what are the odds on that?), we share similar Enneagram personality traits, and each of us professed our marriage or monastic vows 40 years ago, a day apart. I was married on August 17, 1985, and Fr. Mauritius entered the monastery as a novice on August 18, 1985.

After one of many conversations where one of us would say, “That is exactly how it is for me!” or “Me, too!”, I half-seriously, half-jokingly suggested that we write a book about how, setting the whole monk vs. being married thing aside, we experience our love of God and others in many of the same ways. Nearly forgotten, this idea resurfaced a year or so ago, and we decided that leading a retreat together would be a good beginning. Our theme would be love, specifically how the Rule of St. Benedict can help us grow in love and to discover our “inner monk.”

“The monk, a universal archetype of the search for the divine, represents everything in you that leans toward the sacred, all that reaches for what is eternal. The monk represents everything within you that is drawn to seek with unwavering love; to wait for the Holy One with reverential awe; to praise, bow, and adore.” -Christine Valters Paintner

The Rule of St. Benedict shows us the path of love, of nurturing the monk within while living in community. During our retreat, held in July 2025, we shared how the monk’s promises—stability, obedience, and conversion of life—are the foundation for learning and growing in the “school for God’s service.” (RB Prologue 45) For the monk, this place of learning is the monastery. For me, it begins in my family as wife and mother. But each of us is more than our role as a monk or a married person. Each can be transformed by practicing love in our friendships, workplaces, community, and environment.

Continue reading “To Love and Be Loved: The Monk and The Marriage” →
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Kindness Matters

“We have God and we have each other. We have our island community, fragile, and yet a fortress.”

–Parable of the Sower, Octavia Butler

The past few months have presented some hard times in my circle of friends and family. Each week presents a new situation—diagnosis, dying, death—all of it; not to mention the growing instability in our country and world. It seems impossible not to feel sadness, loss, fear, even despair.

Over a recent campfire conversation with friends, my husband shared a sympathy card he received after his brother, Steve, passed away. Overcome with tears, he could not get through the words, so I finished reading it for him. I, too, was in tears by the time I reached the end. And that’s when it hit me–this is how we must walk through any darkness we face: KINDNESS.

My husband’s former co-worker was so thoughtful! His words are an example of how we can extend kindness to others. We are grateful for all the acts of kindness from so many during the last few weeks and throughout our lives. Kindness matters.

Continue reading “Kindness Matters” →
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Spring Equinox and Easter

Just for a moment, at 10:06 pm tonight, March 19, 2024, darkness and light will be held in perfect balance. Equinox, meaning “equal night” in Latin, is when the sun is directly over the Earth’s equator, causing day and night to be equal moments. In the northern hemisphere, where I live, we will begin to have longer days with more sunshine and hours of light.  As the earth continues moving around the sun, the position of the sunrise and sunset will change quickly, and the balance between night and day will not last long. 

Indeed, an apt metaphor for the balance we seek in our daily lives. It is good to remember that even in the cosmos there is either more dark or more light. This is life. 

During pre-Christian Europe, the pagan goddess, Ostara, was celebrated during the spring equinox. She was honored for renewal, rebirth, fertility, balance, and the coming of spring. In Western Christian churches, Easter is celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox. The cosmic connection between spring equinox and Easter, the crucifixion, death, and resurrection of Jesus, cannot be missed–they follow the rhythm of nature and point to more light, either literally or through Christ.

I have been feeling some guilt this Lent season. St. Benedict devotes an entire chapter to observing Lent with advice for monks. He writes, “Let each one deny himself some food, drink, sleep, needless talking and idle jesting, and look forward to holy Easter with joy and spiritual longing (RB 49: 7).” I have not made any grand gestures of sacrifice, quite the opposite. During my spring break from school, which occurs during Lent, we tend to travel out of state to see our daughter and son-in-law, we wine and dine, gather with friends and family, and generally celebrate time on vacation. Return from spring break marks the beginning of the last quarter, or nine weeks, of school when teachers begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

My Lent intention is to “hold it all”– to live as prayerfully, joyfully, playfully, gratefully, mindfully, and soulfully as possible while balancing my school and home life. Striking a perfect balance in one’s life is more of an ideal than a reality. The celebrations of the liturgical and astronomical calendar are reminders that our spiritual longings can be met by following the rhythms of nature. Each season we have another opportunity to set new intentions and to honor them in sacred ritual. The Benedictine idea of balance comes from the monk’s life, moving between prayer and work, ora et labora. So, too, do those who live as “monks in the world” seek this balance–sometimes there is more work, less prayer–but both are seen as necessary, sacred, and part of the whole. 

“Blessed are you, spring, season of resurrection, sacrament of promise. Like Jesus you rise up out of the darkness, leaving around you a wake of new life.
Blessed are you, spring, season of hope and renewal. Wordless poem about all within us that can die. Each year you amaze us with the miracle of returning life.”
-Excerpt from A Spring Blessing in The Circle of Life: The Heart’s Journey Through the Seasons by Joyce Rupp & Macrina Wiederkehr

More on Balance and Being Benedictine:

Mindfulness and a Blue Heron
Enough: I Can Never Know It All

Our Life is a Balance

© Jodi Blazek Gehr, Being Benedictine Blogger

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Abbey of the Arts: Monk in the World Guest Post

I have been so inspired by the writing and work of Christine Valters Painter, a Benedictine oblate, author, and online abbess of Abbey of the Arts. The Abbey is a virtual global online monastery offering pilgrimages, online classes & retreats, reflections, and resources which integrate contemplative spiritual practice and creative expression with monastic spirituality. They provide support and resources in becoming a monk in the world and an artist in everyday life.

Learning from members of the community in the Monk in the World Guest Post series has been a source of affirmation that, indeed, one can live according to the Rule of St. Benedict not only in the monastery but in the life one chooses to lead.

I am so honored to have my blog post shared on Abbey of the Arts on the Feast of St. Benedict! The full text is below or at Abbey of the Arts.

“I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to the Monk in the World guest post series. Read on for Jodi Blazek Gehr’s reflection on being a Benedictine oblate.

St. Benedict is special to me for a few reasons. First, we share a birthday. I admit I was disappointed when I first discovered this. My parents had given me an illustrated book of the “Lives of the Saints” to commemorate my Confirmation. As any nine-year-old would do, I immediately looked to see who the saint was for July 11, my birthday. Perhaps Elizabeth, Mary, or Theresa would be my special saint.

Instead, I see an illustration of a man with a dark hood, a scary-looking bird, a crooked cane, and an unusual name I had only associated with Benedict Arnold. July 11, St. Benedict, Abbot, it said. I had never heard of him and surely did not know what an Abbot was. Through the years, I returned to this image of St. Benedict, thinking that I should have some connection with my patron saint.

Fast forward 26 years. With a full and busy life—married with a young daughter, a career as a high school teacher and club sponsor—I felt a deep longing for times of silence. I answered the call of my heart and responded to an advertisement for a silent contemplative prayer retreat. I discovered an oasis of peace just a few hours from home in the cornfields of Nebraska…called St. Benedict Center.

Continue reading “Abbey of the Arts: Monk in the World Guest Post” →
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July 11: A Big Day for Being Benedictine

St. Benedict is special to me for a few reasons. First, we share a birthday. I admit I was disappointed when I first discovered this. My parents had given me an illustrated book of the “Lives of the Saints” to commemorate my Confirmation. As any nine-year-old would do, I immediately looked to see who the saint was for July 11, my birthday. Perhaps Elizabeth, Mary, or Theresa would be my special saint.

Instead, I see an illustration of a man with a dark hood, a scary-looking bird, a crooked cane, and an unusual name I had only associated with Benedict Arnold. July 11, St. Benedict, Abbot, it said. I had never heard of him and surely did not know what an Abbot was. Through the years, I returned to this image of St. Benedict, thinking that I should have some connection with my patron saint.

Fast forward 26 years. With a full and busy life—married with a young daughter, a career as a high school teacher and club sponsor—I felt a deep longing for times of silence. I answered the call of my heart and responded to an advertisement for a silent contemplative prayer retreat. I discovered an oasis of peace just a few hours from home in the cornfields of Nebraska…called St. Benedict Center.

Continue reading “July 11: A Big Day for Being Benedictine” →
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Stay With Me

April 2022 Lectio Divina and Oblate Reflections

Sources: 

Lectio Divina, Matthew 26: 20-50, The Cross of Christ

Book Discussion, Stability: How an ancient monastic practice can restore our relationships, churches, and communities by Nathan Oates

Of Gods and Men, 2010 French film directed by Xavier Beauvois

Additional Resources: Paraclete Press Lenten Series on Stability with reflections from Nathan Oates, Kathleen Norris & Michael Patrick O’Brien, Jonathon Wilson Hartgrove, and Ronald Rohlheiser. Links below.

Lectio Divina

Matthew 26: 20-50, The Cross of Christ

Discussion

Stability “is the commitment to a purpose, a place, and a people…At its root, stability is the blend of two biblical concepts: patient endurance and standing firm.” (Stability, Nathan Oates) After reflecting on Matthew 26: 20-50, we consider:

How is the virtue of stability present in the gospel story? Are there similarities between what happened to Jesus in Gethsemane and what is happening in Ukraine?

Many people of Ukraine will not flee their country. “This is my home,” they say. Despite the many risks, they stay. They are rooted in their homeplace, their land. Jesus also stayed; despite knowing he was to be betrayed, despite the possibilities the next day would bring. Everything that can go wrong, does go wrong for Jesus. Everyone betrays him, even the best of friends. It would have been much easier to give up when left alone.

“My soul is very sorrowful even to death.” We all struggle with the virtue of stability, but Jesus stayed IN HIS sorrow; he could have fled. Despite our difficulties, we need to die before we die as Jesus did. Jesus’ steadfastness, his stability, was rooted in doing the will of God. “Your will be done” is an exclamation of surrender that gave Jesus the courage to stay. He died before his own death; he surrendered his will. He was able to face his suffering because he had consented to let God work out what would happen next. As St. Benedict said, “keep death daily before our eyes.”

Continue reading “Stay With Me” →
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Now I Become Myself: A New Kind of Hospitality

“Friendship binds past and present and makes bearable the uncertainty of the future. Friendship is…always and everywhere eternal mystery, eternal desire. It is a grasp at the ultimate, the quest for human understanding.”

Joan Chittister, The Friendship of Women

Friendships, both old and new, are a treasure, a gift of hospitality, a welcoming of another into your life. Friendships create space for coming home to oneself, an opportunity to be fully seen as who we are and who we want to become. Friendships are an opportunity to accept the hospitality of another as well, to see ourselves through the eyes of our special friends. Friendships with women are all-at-once sistering, mothering, armchair counseling, and spiritual direction.

Friendship is sacramental, an “outward, visible sign of an inward, invisible grace,” as defined by St. Augustine. Friendship is an invisible grace, a soul connection, that lives on even when friends are not together, when time or distance separate, and even after a dear friend passes. It is a sacred gift to have an old friend, one who has seen you through decades of life. Beth and Judy, friends from “Circle” had that kind of friendship for fifty years.

A short “Circle” story (the longer version HERE) that inspired a new card and brought new insights about hospitality, humility, and friendship:

I met Beth through Katie and then Judy through Beth. Colleen shared her friend, Joyce, with me and she eventually introduced me to SoulCollage. I shared my love of SoulCollage® with Beth, Judy and our Circle through several retreats and social gatherings.  Judy and Beth loved to create cards together—finding images, cutting them out, and when the time was right, pasting them into collages. They looked forward to weekly conversations and new insights. In 2016, their weekly ritual came to an end when Judy passed away. Recently Beth gifted me a bin of SoulCollage® supplies with folders of carefully trimmed images. SoulCollage® was an intimate memory she treasured with Judy, and not something she wanted to continue. Those images came with me on my last retreat.

Now I Become Myself

Sorting through Beth’s images, I came across a photo of Judy and Beth from some 50 years ago. I placed the photo on my table as inspiration, the younger Judy and Beth standing witness to our weekend creativity and to the conversations and insights of the ten women attending.

Judy (left) and Beth (middle), accepting an award on behalf of the Lincoln Mayor’s Committee for International Friendship in Washington DC.

Several of the images I gathered came together in a special way to make a card titled “Another Kind of Hospitality.” I felt the essence of Beth and Judy that weekend and as I work with the meaning of my card. They were not at the retreat, but there were definitely present.

Another Kind of Hospitality–card made from images that Beth had collected.

Reflection: Another Kind of Hospitality

Take off your shoes. Stay awhile.

Join me at the table, there is always an extra place. Break bread with me.

Or sit on the floor. Let’s play, watch, listen, create.

I see you, the One and the Many. I see you in all your many selves—your playfulness, your fear, your loneliness, your becoming. I see that you see me, too.

Welcoming you, I meet a part of myself that perhaps I didn’t see before.

Being with you teaches me about who I am, more of who I am becoming.

I take time to stand still, to be here, to look within. I see me and I see you.

Take your shoes off and stay awhile.

Continue reading “Now I Become Myself: A New Kind of Hospitality” →
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