Tending the Fire of Advent

Celebrating Sister Cecilia’s First Profession

In this season of joyful anticipation, our community celebrated the First Monastic Profession of Sister Clare, who received the name Sister Cecilia on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception (December 8, 2025). She professed stability, fidelity, and obedience to the monastic way of life for the next three years, to be renewed annually until Solemn Monastic Profession.

This Advent, we pray that God would enkindle in Sister Cecilia’s heart an ever-growing love for the sweet yoke of Christ according to the Rule of St. Benedict. In that same spirit, Mother Maria-Michael, OSB, delivered an address on November 29, inviting us to keep the Advent flame alive in our hearts with vigilance in prayer and service. Below is an abridged version of her reflection.

Staying vigilant

Advent is really the life of the monk. It is what we are all about: being vigilant and being ready.

In the Divine Office, we read, “Sober, just, and godly we live in this world as we live in blessed hope for the glorious coming of our mighty Savior, Jesus Christ. Let us be concerned with inspiring each other to love and do good works” (Titus 2:12-13). That is a holy community! That is one that is truly seeking God and not self.

Likewise, in today’s Gospel, Jesus offers us a timely exhortation:

Beware that your hearts do not become drowsy
from carousing and drunkenness
and the anxieties of daily life,
and that day catch you by surprise like a trap.
For that day will assault everyone
who lives on the face of the earth.
Be vigilant at all times
and pray that you have the strength
to escape the tribulations that are imminent
and to stand before the Son of Man.

Luke 21:34-36; emphasis added

He does not say that we “become drowsy because we have been working hard.” It is not a surprise that we are tired. It is not a surprise that sometimes we feel a little worn out. We should! We are putting everything into the life we are living. That is the gift we give to God. Sometimes getting up for Matins is hard, but that is the choice of one who is vigilant — one who is waiting for God.

That is the Gospel we should keep before ourselves this Advent. We have to live with vigilance.

The fire of unity

I have been thinking so much about the fire of the early Church — the love with which they lived their lives. They were aflame. They were standing strong, and they were truly one. They loved the Church.

And I pray that we, too, reclaim again that love. We should be like a community keeping the Easter fire going — the Easter fire from the beginning, the first Easter fire that shot fire into the world.

We should keep Advent as precious as the Easter fire. And let us be that fire for the Church. We need to be the sparks that make everything go afire. It only takes a spark to start a forest fire — that is all it takes. But what if we are a torch?

We have to live with great love for the Church.

How relevant this is for our day! We are not called to tear the Church apart. We are called to trust in God, and we are called to unity in obedience to the Church. And I would ask that we pray specifically for the Church this Advent. It does not need to be torn apart — and, quite frankly, a lot of schisms are tearing parishes apart and pulling people away.

That is not the Church.

I think it is going to take a lot of prayer to bring it back. But isn’t that our life? It is one of prayer. It is one of obedience. It is one of sacrifice.

St. Benedict was very clear on this when we hear about the kinds of monks:

Third, there are the sarabaites, the most detestable kind of monks, who with no experience to guide them, no rule to try them ‘as gold is tried in a furnace’ (Prov. 27:21), have a character as soft as lead. Still loyal to the world by their actions, they clearly lie to God by their tonsure. Two or three together, or even alone, without a shepherd, they pen themselves up in their own sheepfolds, not the Lord’s. Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes their fancy. Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden.

RB 1.6-9

I think we should go back to this chapter and read it again, because it has such great wisdom in it. It shows us what unity means. It shows us how you have to be ever vigilant to be good monks.

Do not be afraid to know what you do wrong. Be afraid that you don’t. And be willing to change it. We must say to ourselves, “No, I am not going that way anymore. Is it not God’s call to bring me to holiness? I must continue on the straighter road. I must continue to strive for holiness.”

If we all strive for holiness this way, we become one in unity — one in community. We strive to live well by inspiring each other to the good things.

Eagerness in prayer

I love going to Matins early every morning and seeing everyone coming. It makes me think, “I’ve got to get in there — I want to be a part of that!” I love when the bell rings and everyone is in a hurry to get to chapel. I think that is such a grace.

I also think it is such a grace when we serve each other at table. That is one of the most beautiful things of the monastic life. The world needs to return to serving one another. We need to keep that strong.

And we need to remember, during this Advent, that we are going to serve each other as best we can and keep our minds on prayer.

Let us dive in with joy. Let us pick up this season and run with hearts open wide. Jesus Christ is the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. When we pray “Your Majesty,” we must remember that He is the most majestic. I pray that everyone will have a holy and spiritually uplifting Advent that leads to prayer in which we are full of gratitude for Him who came so humble that He chose to be a child.

There’s nothing more humble.

The Power of the O Antiphons

A reflection for the beginning of the O Antiphons by Mother Maria-Michael Newe, OSB

This is the week (Dec. 17-23 each year) that we get to pray the great O Antiphons at Mass and Vespers, and we should be excited!  With them, we cry out for God to come and save us. The O Antiphons have a history in the monastic life that is profound, and it’s even possible that St. Benedict himself would have prayed them.  They have been sung in the liturgy of the Church for centuries, likely originating as early as the fourth century in Italy. Boethius mentions them in “The Consolation of Philosophy.”  When we pray them, we’re doing something ever ancient and ever new.  For every age they will mean something different.  And we must look deeply for this meaning, because it is bestowed each time we sing them.  With each O Antiphon, we cry out to heaven once again: “Maranatha! Come!”

O Antiphons-edited contrast

Calligraphy by the nuns of the Abbey of St. Walburga of the O Antiphons (in Latin)

In the first, O Sapientia, we take a backward flight into the recesses of eternity to address Wisdom, the Word of God. In the second, O Adonai, we have leaped from eternity to the time of Moses and the Law of Moses (about 1400 B.C.). In the third, O Radix Jesse, we have come to the time when God was preparing the line of David (about 1100 B.C.). In the fourth, O Clavis David, we have come to the year 1000. In the fifth, O Oriens we see that the line of David is elevated so that the peoples may look on a rising star in the east, and hence in the sixth, O Rex Gentium, we know that He is king of all the world of man. This brings us to the evening before the vigil, and before coming to the town limits of Bethlehem, we salute Him with the last Great O, O EmmanuelGod-with-us.

He Cometh, Fr. William McGarry

O Sapientia (Dec. 17), O Adonai (Dec. 18), O Radix Jesse (Dec. 19), O Clavis David (Dec. 20), O Oriens (Dec. 21), O Rex Gentium (Dec. 22), O Emmanuel (Dec. 23). God Himself came in all of those titles.  They’re powerful.  We should stand in awe before each one.  Each one should stop us in our tracks.

On December 17 we have the antiphon for O Sapientia: “O Widsom of our God most high, guiding creation with power and love, come to teach us the path of knowledge.”  True knowledge.  True wisdom.  Having wisdom enables us to do everything through the eyes of heaven.  And who is heaven but Christ?  There’s a popular adage right now, “Do what Jesus would do.”  That is exactly what we should be aiming for.  That is exactly right.  We should weigh our decisions on eternity.

In chapter four of the Holy Rule, St. Benedict says, “Your way of acting should be different from the world’s way; the love of Christ must come before all else.”  When we live that way we proclaim where we’re headed.  Our way MUST be different from that of the world.  We must value the things of heaven.  God says “Take care, first, of the things of heaven.  I’ll take care of the things of earth.  I’m the creator of ALL.”  If we live that way, we will die that way: with our eyes on eternity, on Jesus.  He is the one and the only one who will care for us.  He is the only one who will love us and love our souls to the fullest measure.  Nothing can reach the depth of the love that Christ’s love can reach.  Nothing.  Therefore we yearn for Him.  That’s why we’re attentive to the soul. We want it to be filled.  We go each day to pray the prayers of the Church, that we may be filled and walk according to the law of God, not of the world.  And today it’s going to take more to walk the ways of God.  They are not as appreciated or valued as they once were. But if one touches God, one can’t help but to strive to love God.

So strive for the Wisdom of God.  Ask God for the Wisdom of Heaven.  It will be different from the way of the world and it should be.  Have you not chosen a way different?  Hang on to it. Embrace it and do not let it go.

We will see the face of Him whom we long for.  What we read, we will see in the flesh.  As we sing the O Antiphons, embrace them.  Get excited about them within.  Pray them with delight.  Pay attention to what you are singing, because it has the touch of eternity.

O Sapientia – O Wisdom, which camest out of the mouth of the most High, and reachest from one end to another, mightily, and sweetly ordering all things: come and teach us the way of prudence.

O Adonai – O Adonai, and Leader of the house of Israel, who appearedst in the Bush to Moses in a flame of fire, and gavest him the law of Sinai: come and deliver us with an outstretched arm.

O Radix Jesse – O Root of Jesse, which standest for an ensign of the people, at whom kings shall shut their mouths, to whom the Gentiles shall seek; Come and deliver us, and tarry not.

O Clavis David – O Key of David, and Sceptre of the house of Israel; that openest, and no man shutteth, and shuttest, and no man openeth: Come and bring the prisoner out of the prison-house, and him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.

O Oriens – O Day-spring, Brightness of light everlasting and Sun of rightesousness: Come and enlighten him that sitteth in darkness, and the shadow of death.

O Rex gentium – O King of the nations, and their Desire, the Cornerstone, who makest both one: come and save mankind, whom thou formedst of clay.

O Emmanuel – O Emmanuel, our King and Law-giver, the Desire of all nations, and their Salvation: Come and save us, O Lord our God.

On the Day Before Christmas

A reflection by our Abbess, Mother Maria-Michael Newe, OSB, shared with the nuns of the Abbey of St. Walburga on the day before Christmas

Abbey of St. Walburga Outdoor Nativity Scene

This Christmas I have for you a poem, which is not necessarily about Christmas, but I think you’ll see how it truly is. It’s called “The Dash,” by Linda Ellis (click to read full text of poem), and in it she talks about the significance of the line between the two dates on a tombstone, and how important it is that we “spend our dash” on the things that matter.

Tomorrow we celebrate the birthday of our Lord and Savior – the day His dash began.  I also see the word “dash” as “to run,” because Jesus did dash, with great joy and with great glory, to accomplish the work His Father had sent Him for.  So He dashed not only with a line, but with a roar.  And as I read the life of Christ, I am seeing more and more how in the gospels Jesus is giving great hints, insights that He knew long before.  He knew the beginnings of His life, and far beyond, before He was born.  We read in Matthew 25:5-7, that while the bridegroom was slow in coming (mind you, it really was a long time between the time of Adam and Eve and the Messiah!), they all began nodding their heads and fell asleep, but at midnight there was a shout: “Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!” (Matt. 25:6).  We should respond to this coming with the author of the Song of Songs: “Hark! my lover—here he comes springing across the mountains, leaping across the hills” (Song 2:8).  Yes, we do come, as the shepherds did and the magi did.  There were radiant stars and angels, and perhaps even our own guardian angels, present there at the birth of Christ, with our future lives in mind. 

Tomorrow we will celebrate His wondrous birth, showering the world with radiant beams, salvation, and healing grace.  Over the next few months in the Church’s liturgy, we shall traverse the dash of His life, and then we shall come the date of His death.  But that isn’t the end – there is the explosive power of His Resurrection.  As we make this journey, let us remember that, “What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.  So, think about this long and hard.  Are there things you’d like to change?  For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged” (excerpt from “The Dash” by Linda Ellis).

And so now here we come, and the road is the dash, the dash of our life, and how we live it will depend on how we dash.  Will you run with the light of life?  Will you run with joy to do whatever is asked?  Let us light our lamps and be ready to meet the Bridegroom when He comes.  Think of Paul and Silas singing in prison, and how at midnight there was an earthquake and they were freed – the chains dropped!  Let us all be ready to drop the chains that keep us from dashing through life, dashing along the Way that is Christ. 

There was a beam of heaven that intersected the dash of His life, making His dash a radiant cross.  Let us not let His dash pass us by, but instead intersect our own and make us one.  I wish that each one here would truly dash as He did, living to please the Father.  And let your life be written on the parchment of Mary.  She will keep it safe, and she will not let it go.  I wish you all a blessed and Merry Christmas.

Abbey of St. Walburga Outdoor Nativity Scene

The Glorious Assumption of Mary

A reflection by Mother Maria-Michael Newe, OSB, on the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, celebrated every year on August 15

Titian, Assumption of the Virgin, 1518
Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, Venice
Public Domain

“Finally the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death.” The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son’s Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians.

Catechism of the Catholic Church, 966

The meaning of the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary is that of culmination and a new beginning.  With Our Lady’s Assumption into heaven, the promises of the Lord were fulfilled for her and as always, beyond all expectation.  I would have loved to have seen Mary’s face at her arrival into heaven.  She saw her Son under the horror of the Cross; and I’m sure that never left her heart.  But now she gets to see the glory of her Son and she shares in that.  Remember that as she came to heaven, she was body and soul—she had an expression on her face.  And that expression has never left her.  The beauty of her Son seated on His throne…     

The word “assumption” comes from the Latin word “assumere,” meaning, “to take to oneself.”  Our Lord Jesus Christ took Mary home to Himself where He is.  Now, on Mary’s part, it was the work of a lifetime of being watchful and ready to preserve the deifying light in her soul.  In the Prologue of the Rule of St. Benedict, we hear, “Let us open our eyes to the light that comes from God.”  Mary never took her eyes off of the light that comes from God, her Son.  Further on in the Rule it says, “Run while you have the light of life, that the darkness of death may not overtake you.”  Well we could say that Mary ran the marathon of life and outran sin!  She never stood around long enough for sin to “attach” itself to her.  There was no selfishness in Mary for sin to cling to.  And isn’t most sin about selfishness?  And while we also remember that Mary is the sorrowful Mother, her sorrow was never about herself.  Mary’s sorrows have only to do with anything that separates us from the love and life of Christ.  It would be good for us to imitate Mary in knowing true sorrow instead of selfish sorrow.

The Assumption is seen as a sign of hope for all Christians, demonstrating the ultimate destiny of those who are united with Christ: the glorious reunion of body and soul in heaven. It highlights the goodness and dignity of the human body, destined for eternal glory.

There is a story, that perhaps you have heard, of a very holy woman who would serve God’s people during the day without ceasing to pray.  She would go to bed late at night but would get up early every morning to continue to serve.  And when she would get up in the morning, as soon as her feet hit the floor, hell shook and said, “Oh no, she’s up!”  I pray that could be said for every one of us.  But for that to happen, we have to live like Mary—attentive to the body of Christ, attentive to one another, attentive to everything that separates anybody from the love of Christ and His life.

Mary’s Assumption did not mark the end of her service. On the contrary, her service could now assume its universal work.  We read in Lumen Gentium that “taken up to heaven, she did not lay aside this saving role, but by her manifold acts of intercession continues to win for us gifts of eternal salvation. By her maternal charity, Mary cares for the brethren of her Son who still journey on…”  And Mary cares for us.  Let us do nothing that would grieve the immaculate heart of Mary.  Let us live in her presence.

As we celebrate the Assumption let us make our house a place where Mary wants to dwell.  That takes work and it takes love.  Mary suffered, but she loved more than she suffered.  Like Mary, we too have to pay more attention to what we love than to what we suffer. 

Archaeology has revealed two tombs of Mary, one in Jerusalem and one in Ephesus. The fact that Mary lived in both places explains the two tombs. But what is inexplicable apart from the Assumption is the fact that there is no body in either tomb. And there are no relics. Anyone who peruses early Church history knows that Christian belief in the communion of saints and the sanctity of the body—in radical contrast to the Gnostic disdain for “the flesh”—led early Christians to seek out with the greatest fervor relics from the bodies of great saints. Cities, and, later, religious orders, would fight over the bones of great saints. This is one reason why we have relics of the apostles and so many of the greatest saints and martyrs in history. Yet never was there a single relic of Mary’s body? As revered as Mary was, this would be very strange, except for the fact of the assumption of her body.

Tim Staples, THe Assumption of Mary in History

Walking with the Apostles

Excerpts from Mother Maria-Michael’s Easter season reflections, which highlight the ways in which we can follow in the footsteps of the first disciples

Abbey of St. Walburga paschal candle department artwork

Commenting on Acts 9, the first Mass reading from the third Friday of Easter:

We have much to learn from the reading about St. Paul’s conversion. He had the courage to ask God the question, “Who are you?”, and once he knew that it was Jesus, he made a 180 degree turn and followed Him, he who had up to that moment been persecuting Christians for the sake of God. His zeal was for God all along, only it was misguided. So he was open and ready to change his mind and his life once he had been enlightened by Jesus. It goes to show that when we truly want to know God and do His will, He will guide us. However, it may require a complete change of heart on our part, as was the case with St. Paul. Our sinful ways are never the end; Christ’s Resurrection has the final word, and so our sins can be the very things that lead us to God if we let them. Whenever we do our Lectio Divina, we should approach the Word in this way, open and ready to be surprised by God. The course of our day, the course of our lives, can be changed by the truth He reveals to us through our prayerful reading, meditation and listening.

Commenting on Acts 16, the first Mass reading from the fifth Saturday of Easter:

We hear that Paul and Timothy were prevented by the Holy Spirit from going to Asia to preach. I think this means that they knew how to listen well to the Spirit’s guidance in their lives; they must have cultivated that spirit of silent listening that is so important, that joyful silence which listens for the voice of God with the ears of the heart. In this way of being, you are even open to interruptions and failures because with God’s grace you learn to accept them as gifts from the hand of God. You may experience suffering or see suffering and not understand, but that is where faith comes in, trusting in God’s wisdom above one’s own, believing that He truly is working for the good. Yes, our ways are different than the world’s ways, because it the world tells us that we need to have an answer to everything. But as Christians we must try to accept the mysteries of life and not always need to explain them.

Commenting on Acts 22-23, the first Mass reading from the seventh Thursday of Easter:

It is good to have our motives questioned, as Paul’s were before the Sanhedrin, even when we feel that we are being accused unjustly. It is a great benefit for us to see criticism as a gift, because then no matter what, whether we are being flattered or persecuted, we can be grateful that God is giving us the opportunity to evaluate our intentions. He desires for us to stand before Him with a clear conscience, regardless of what anyone else thinks, so He allows us to be tested in this way in order that our motives may be purified. After asking ourselves whether or not an accusation about us is true, we can move forward with that self-knowledge and act accordingly, grateful for the gift of self-knowledge we have received through the experience. Through this process we will purified in our intention to do everything, no matter how small, for the glory and honor of the Father.

Reflection on Ascension Sunday:

It is hard to imagine how difficult it must have been for the apostles to go from living in community with Jesus to trying to function without Him after His Ascension. But we know that He did not leave them orphans. They had to learn, as we do now, how to recognize His presence within themselves and in each other. I imagine they had the grace to live in the way Brother Lawrence describes in his book The Practice of the Presence of God, where God is everywhere and in everyone and everything, we have only to ask for the eyes to see Him. Do we act and speak as if Christ were dwelling in the other? This is the great challenge and adventure of the Christian life, to always be on the lookout for God, joyfully anticipating finding Him in each person we meet, and yes, within our very selves.

Embracing the Cross

A reflection on the triumph of Love by Mother Maria-Michael Newe, OSB

I was thinking about the incredible words we sing during the Divine Office on the Feast of St. Andrew: “Seeing the cross [of his own martyrdom], Andrew cried out with joy, ‘O precious cross! Truly I have always loved you, and I have desired to embrace you.’”

This is a disciple who ran away in the garden of Gethsemane—he didn’t stand by Jesus on the cross—so the greatest gift that could be given to him was another chance to stand by the cross. What did he do with it? He embraced it. He longed for that moment to tell Christ, “I love you, and I want to be with you, wherever that leads.” This is the power of the triumph of the cross. Love is the triumph of the cross. When we love enough that we no longer fear the crosses in our lives but we embrace them and we long for them because they unite us with him who has loved us beyond all love, that is the triumph of the cross. So today we celebrate that we no longer fear the cross; it is truly the exaltation. Of course we cannot do this of ourselves. St. Andrew, St. Peter, none of them, could have embraced the cross on their own, but with divine strength they could embrace and kiss it. And their suffering turned into gratitude. Yes, when we can thank God for the crosses in our life, God has triumphed. When we can see that it is Love that has given us once again the chance to prove our love, we will rejoice and say, “Amen!” and run toward it, because we have a chance to prove our love. Let us pray today that the cross may triumph in our own lives, because it will not happen on our own. It is completely divine strength.

May this Easter season bring you much joy in the resurrection of Our Lord, who suffered his cross for the love of us, that we might have a sense of the depths of his love and desire to return our love for his.

Artwork by Sr. Ancilla Armijo, OSB