Once again we had a good roll up to our annual pre Christmas social event held on 15 December 2002.

The Chapter thanks Eleanor and Dominic Sgherza for providing the use of their house and facilities for the BBQ at East Fremantle.

It is time to arrange bookings for our forthcoming annual retreat, which will be held as usual on the Trinity Sunday weekend, from Friday afternoon 13 June to Sunday afternoon 15 June 2003. Please confirm your booking as soon as possible with our Secretary, Adrienne Byrne, who will liase with New Norcia. Try to book your place early to ensure guesthouse accommodation, as overflow bookings will have to be placed in alternative quarters. Last year there were several last minute cancellations, which made it difficult for the monastery to re-let the rooms and it would therefore be appreciated if change of plans can be communicated to our Secretary as soon as possible to avoid this situation.

Our congratulations to Frank Woods, who was received as a Novice at our February Chapter meeting, with Fr. Anthony officiating at the ceremony.

The February Oblate Chapter meeting included our AGM and a good roll up of members were in attendance to select the President and Committee for the next twelve months. Those appointed:

President ……………..Brian Low

Vice President ……….Pat Cockett

Secretary …………….Adrienne Byrne

Assistant Secretary…..Doris Walton

Treasurer……………. Mike McGovern

Spiritual Director ……Fr. Anthony Lovis OSB

Committee Members Eleanor Sgherza, Mike Schilling, Peter Driver, Rhod Metcalf.

In particular, all Oblates would like to thank Brian Low for his contribution as President of the Chapter over the past three years and his decision to re-nominate. This has been a period in which we have seen a substantial growth in oblate numbers and attendances at Chapter meetings. Many thanks also to Fr. Anthony and his unfailing dedication in travelling each month from New Norcia, his homilies and spiritual oversight of our group. Also to our long serving committee members, who have re-enlisted for another term, plus a welcome to our two new members - Peter Driver and Rhod Metcalf.

On being silent in our culture

We know all about the external threats to silence -- our mass pop culture abhors silence. It is a "consumption economy," that is, an economy that generates enormous quantities of consumer goods that are used only a short while. Such an economy has to generate a climate of hyperactivity, of sensual over-stimulation in order that more goods may be consumed. Silence in our culture produces ‘withdrawal D.T.s’ in many.

Our monastery, because of its close proximity to radio/TV signals, the students we work with and the Internet that pulses into our midst, is vulnerable to the loss of silence and the incapacity for sustained silence. If we don't hear the freeway, the radio, or other stuff in the background, we feel something is very wrong.

If our analysis of silence stops here, it would be superficial indeed, for it is not only external silence we desire, but that deep internal silence where we can be aware of the voice and presence of God. We know the stuff that goes through our heads and hearts during the one-minute pauses in church: the task we have procrastinated on or simply forgot; the throw-away comment by a confrere that somehow hits a vulnerable spot -- suddenly we are aware of the wound; the unresolved anger we feel toward someone, anger that blocks all peace of mind and heart; anxiety about tomorrow's or today's work; boredom -- "God, how long will this go on...?"

The discipline of silence will help us to let go of this stuff -- to take these experiences as nods to our subconscious and not let them rule us. "I only have to be one place in the universe, and that is right here." Or if we are nervous or afraid, silence will help us turn it into an expression of faith: "Lord, you light the path in front of me, and you are a shield behind me." Each of us needs to work to build significant periods of silence into our life each day.

The relationship between silence and contemplative prayer

Our culture prizes articulate, verbal speech. Picturing a monk who has moved far into contemplative prayer, Benedict insists that his remaining in contemplation is of greater benefit to himself and others than any words he might utter. The Cistercian, Michael Casey, comments, "Contemplation occurs in a nonverbal zone of the human spirit. Insofar as contemplative prayer has content, it does not translate easily into words and concepts; only images or evocations can be used to partially disclose its reality. The Word is beyond words. Contemplation brings us so close to God that God ceases to be a clear object of consciousness." With wry humour, he continues, "A monk whose life is given fully to contemplation has no inclination to write a book on contemplation (as I have done)."

Some practical considerations

The following are some specific considerations -- I am sure you can think of others:

Silence is an immediate preparation for our community prayer. There is great value in coming to choir 5-10 minutes early, to sit in silence, emptying oneself, head and heart, to be available for the Work of God. Especially in the middle and at end of the day, I know what I carry within myself -- it takes an effort to quiet down. This practice of giving ourselves some time to get ready to pray gives a positive witness to the value we place on our prayer together. We are not just dragging ourselves into church at the last possible minute, perhaps by accident missing the hymn and part of a psalm. Our life is about prayer, about giving God enough space in our hearts so that he can transform them.
Each one of us has to choose to practice silence each day. "A brother went to Abba Moses to ask a word. And the old man said to him, "Go and sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything."

When we meet someone in the corridor, use slight hand gestures to acknowledge each others presence or greet them quietly. However, to walk past someone and not acknowledge their presence in any way is incredibly hurtful.

The problem with setting down concrete expectations regarding silence is that each one of us can be forgetful and break the silence. These guidelines should not become an occasion for correcting each other in a nasty, judgmental way. Rather, as Benedict says, we should encourage each other gently.

Summary

It is silence that ultimately allows us to know ourselves, to come to understand what we care about, where our treasure is. Silence purifies the word we hear. Otherwise, we may simply be echoing the echo of our interior noise. Silence is essential for prophetic insight. If we find ourselves constantly worrying about something it is a signal to us that we may need to take some action. If we find ourselves, our interior filled with anger, it tells us that we really need to look at this, and develop the skills to handle anger in a more effective manner. If silence is a sign of an uncluttered interior, it relates directly to an uncluttered external world, to simplicity and to the good of order. Each one of us knows the healing, regenerative power of silence. There is a balance between silence and speaking, between solitude and our need for community, for that deep space which God can fill and our need to laugh, and shout for joy with others. With respect to TV ask yourself the question: "Am I on automatic pilot or is this programme really better than the practice of lectio, other reading, or silence?" The practice of silence is one way that we can attend to the work of stability, of staying with the spiritual work in our lives, of staying with the issues, of not giving in to noise and distraction and never really being available for God. Silence is truly one of the places where we can do the work of reflection and integration in our spiritual lives. Silence complements our conversation in the work of conversatio. The fertility of silence allows for the Holy Spirit to be at work.

TALES FROM THE MAGIC MONASTERY

‘The Great Debate’ by Theophane - courtesy Amazon .com

I had been a few years in another monastery and things were not going well. I persuaded someone to enquire around and find out what the other monks thought of me. His report – “They call you Nobody.”

That was terrible to hear. Some of the people in my head started shouting in a rage. “No I’m

SOMEBODY, somebody.” Others moaned. “No, it’s true, you are Nobody. The great debate. It went on for months, all in my head. It wore me out. “Somebody!” ”Nobody!” “Somebody!” “Nobody!”

One night someone came into my room, got on his knees and put his forehead to the ground. I thought he was mocking me, so I just ignored him. After a while I gained courage and began to curse at him. Finally he spoke. “Please come to the Magic Monastery”. I tried to make some reply, but the words came out all stutters and stammers. That debate was tearing me apart. He just put out his hand. I took it and followed him.

As we walked up the path to the great door, the bells began to ring – as if there were a great feast. The Abbot came to greet me and led me into a huge hall. He placed me in the centre and the monks and nuns, hundreds of them, came and sat all around me. Someone brought the candle from the sanctuary and set it in front of me. So we sat all through the night. Now you might say they sat in silence, their eyes closed. But this is the Magic Monastery and my experience was different. I heard them chanting “Somebody, Somebody …at last, at last … Welcome, welcome.” I heard the Abbot tell them how I had just got in from Egypt. We were all breathing as one. Someone invited me to sing for them. I said I couldn’t sing, but I’d tell them a few jokes. One said it was good to have a new perspective. Then someone called out, “You can sing.” So I sang. I sang the song of my life – my past, my present, my future. It was all so beautiful.

Fr. Thomas Gil from New Norcia was the Superior of the mission and on 29 August 1929, he went to Kalumburu with some Aborigines to prepare two small blocks for cultivation. The experiment opened the way for the transfer of the mission some years later. The survey at Pago gave an unpromising picture. Natural resources of the soil had been exhausted during years of intense cultivation and the situation was becoming increasingly precarious. In addition cattle and goats were dying, finally traced to poison weeds which were so plentiful they could not be exterminated.

18 August 1931 was a great day for the mission when the first three Missionary Sisters arrived in the ‘Koolinda’ with the Abbot of New Norcia. The official opening and blessing of the Sisters Convent took place on the 23^rd. in the presence of a native congregation, who had never witnessed anything like it before. The Sisters found that the accommodation prepared for them by the monks to be comfortable and they soon settled down to missionary life and learned about the people among whom they were to live and work.

Transfer to Kalumburu took several years, with a constant coming and going to and from Pago. The first baby born at Kalumburu was born and baptised on 26 November 1932 by Fr. Thomas. The Mission house there was blessed on 11 May 1934. They were by this time receiving continual visits from various officials and dignitaries who were, almost without exception, in praise of the work carried out there. In fact it appeared that the Kalumburu mission was superior to most other similar missions, commenced or in operation in Australia at that time.

The spectre of war was now becoming a reality and Australia was not to be taken by surprise. The missionaries were contracted by the government to build an airfield to military specifications in the shortest possible time. On 8 March 1939, a new member joined the community, Fr. Seraphim Sanz, young and energetic and completely devoted to the missionary work. Fr. Theodore returned to New Norcia a year later. The first runway was completed and declared excellent and two more commissioned. In between work on the aerodrome, houses were built for the native population and on 7 January 1941, twelve Aboriginal families settled into their new homes as Kalumburu ‘city’ began to take shape. Japan’s declaration of war occurred through the attack on Pearl Harbour – 8 December 1941. Kalumburu was now taking a major role in national defence and the missionaries cast their lot in with the defending forces, whilst determined to stand by their Aborigines at the same time.

In February and March 1942, Darwin, Bathurst Island, Wyndham and Broome were all bombed by Japanese aircraft. Air activity around Kalumburu increased daily with aircraft from both sides seen over the town and several shot up fighters and bombers landing at the airfield for attention. Fr. Sanz was made official Captain on 3 December 1942 and was to make many trips on the mission

boats to Broome and other ports carrying personnel and cargo, continually putting his life in danger, but successfully evading enemy air attacks. Kalumburu’s darkest hour came on 27 September 1942. A Japanese reconnaissance plane flew over the mission at 9.0am and disappeared. Half an hour later the brother who had been unloading the truck came to warn everyone that the siren had gone and to take shelter. Within two minutes the roaring of approaching aircraft was heard. Fr. Thomas with some of the natives went to the nearest trench. They counted 22 enemy planes coming in to attack, flying low as bombs, machine gun fire and cannon shells fell heavily with deafening noise and frightening explosions.

In a few minutes the mission compound was a field of dust, smoke, blood and destruction. Afterwards was silence and desolation. Everyone enquired for Fr. Thomas. He was buried in the only trench to score a direct hit, with his head blown off. Next to him was a woman with a child in her arms and one hand missing and on the other side, holding tight to him with no wounds but dead from suffocation, were two children. Four men from the aerodrome came and dug the grave in the cemetery and the bodies of all the victims were laid together with Fr. Thomas in the middle. The military personnel kept saying to the monks; “We ought to have received this punishment, not you, for we are the cause of it all.”

Kalumburu became the biggest aerodrome in the north of Australia, with four runways, landings over two miles long and a personnel of 2000, as it was the closest place from which to attack Timor. The monks looked upon it as either the doom of the mission or the dawn of a new horizon. Meanwhile planes and more planes kept coming and going, fighters and bombers on their way to Timor. Occasional American Liberator bombers also were landing there. There was the continual fear of a Japanese invasion. Due to the war activity, the monks were not able to look after everyone as previously and the native community returned to the bush and the elderly retired to Tingun, about three kilometres away.

By 12 May 1945, no enemy planes had been seen for months and the time had arrived for a return to Kalumburu and on 23 May, the last Mass was said at Tingun. The war came to an end on 11 August 1945, with the Japanese surrender.

A new missionary, Fr. Basil Noseda, arrived on 11 October 1949, who stayed until February 1952, when he was called back to New Norcia to look after the native boys there. Fr. Basil returned again in October accompanied by Abbot Gregory Gomez. In the early morning of 11 June the following year, an accident occurred when a charter plane carrying visitors was taking off from the mission. A fog formed suddenly on the screen of the aircraft, causing it to lose direction and veer to one side and hit the mission truck. The propeller killed the Aboriginal Willie, who was standing behind the cabin and struck Fr. Basil who was at the wheel.. The Bishop of Darwin, who was sitting next to him barely escaped injury as the propeller hit Fr. Basil in the face and fractured some ribs. It was a day of mourning for Willie Maraltadj, the most intelligent and inspired man in the Aboriginal community. Fr. Basil was hospitalised for a month to recover from the concussion and broken ribs.

From a dying race of old people, with practically no births to ensure survival, there was, due to the steady increase in the birth rate of children from marriages, and those saved by the missionaries, hope for ensuing generations. By 1974, a balance had finally been reached between deaths and births and a completely new population had been created.

In 1955 Fr. Sanz returned as Superior of the mission, where he had spent ten years from 1939-1949. In the New Years Honours list for 1970, Fr. Sanz was awarded an MBE. Congratulating him on the honour, Mr. J.C.Tozer, Dept. of the North-West wrote: - “I felt that your award, while honouring particularly your personal contribution, is an act of recognition of the work being done here by the men of your order and also all those involved in missionary work where it is so needed in the Kimberley area…..”.

The 1967 referendum gave the Australian Government the power to make laws for the Aborigines and as the national government pressed for full control of the Aborigine population, missionary activities and influence were affected. The government made it clear that they could only support mission conducted programmes which coincided with their own views on the future of Aboriginal communities. Some tensions

naturally occurred amongst the Aboriginal population as they were encouraged towards self determination and independence. By 1975, where the book concludes, the Aboriginal population stood at 186, with 115 people under the age of 25 and 71 over this age. There were 36 married couples. Except for a few individuals, the Aborigines at Kalumburu were baptised Christians and Catholic.

If the Cistercian Way is based on an austere and radical interpretation of the Rule of St. Benedict, then St. Aelred of Rievaulx proves to us that harsh asceticism of life in inhospitable conditions (remote countryside and damp buildings) can produce, not dour eccentricity, but a truly Christian spirit, which delights in serving God and others and makes due allowance for human frailty

Aelred was born in 1110 in Northumbria, of Saxon parentage. His father and grandfather had both been married priests at Hexham. Intelligent and personable, he was marked out for success from an early age. His youth was spent mostly at the court of the Scottish king David I as a companion to the heir, Prince Henry. Like Thomas More, Aelred was ‘born for friendship’ and one can imagine the two young men being close and enjoying the traditional pastimes of medieval nobility. The court of King David was still pervaded by the spirit of the King’s grandmother, St. Margaret and we may suppose that this atmosphere was encouraging and formative for the future saint.

At the age of twenty-two, Aelred was appointed steward and it was on the king’s business in 1134 that he came across Rievaulx in Yorkshire and decided to remain there as a monk. At that time there was no great abbey, just a few huts clustered together on a lonely site. The Cistercian movement had begun in Burgundy less than forty years earlier and was spreading rapidly. Its ideals immediately attracted Aelred, who spent the next eight years as a choir monk, immersed in prayer and the study of scripture. This time was the foundation for all that came after and Aelred was often to look back on it with longing.

In 1142, he was appointed the first abbot of a daughter house, Revesby in Lincolnshire. Five years later, at the age of thirty-seven, he was recalled to Rievaulx to be its abbot. Despite poor health, he was to remain abbot until his death twenty years later in 1167. Never robust, Aelred travelled extensively visiting the four daughter houses in England and Scotland. He must also have attended the annual General Chapter of the Order, as abbots were required to do.

His amenable and attractive personality drew many recruits. Devoted to Cistercian simplicity, yet never ashamed of his learning, Aelred freely quoted from classical sources in his writings. Although he wrote on many topics, including commentaries on scripture, his most famous works are ‘The Mirror of Charity’ and ‘On Spiritual Friendship’. ‘No life could possibly be happy without friends,’ he wrote, but his definition of friendship went far beyond mutual compatibility and interests. For Aelred, friendship has its beginning, continuance and end in God. The kind of friendship he was talking about was probably akin to what modern evangelicals call ‘fellowship in the Lord.’ A Christian must be charitable to all, but have few most trusted friends. It is impossible, Aelred maintains, for evil doers to have mutual friendships. Since spiritual friendship is rooted in God and reflects something of His love, only those living morally stable lives can enjoy true friendship. Thus, Aelred discounts adolescent attachments based on emotions, because these lack self discipline and maturity. Friends should be tested by their actions, not just their words. Serious character flaws (anger, gossiping, instability and suspicion) will inhibit the free flowing trust one gives to very few.

However, Aelred makes no unreasonable demands – if true friendship were the preserve of the perfect, there would be little hope for most of us! Similarly, before ‘dropping’ someone who has disappointed us (for example by a temper outburst) we might first try to use our influence to lead that person to a closer union with God. All our lives must be directed to this union, Aelred taught, and through the love of friendship we can all experience a glimpse of the depth of God’s love and be transformed by it into a reflection of God Himself.

Aelred was respected for his even temperament and was often called upon to act as peacemaker. It is not unreasonable to suppose that had the monastery not intervened, he would have had a shining career as a diplomat or courtier. Yet he relished the austere life of a Cistercian and felt totally at one with its ideals, for instance in complaining of musical embellishments during the singing of the Divine Office. He also had a very Cistercian view about architecture, which echoes the views of St. Bernard, when he says ‘the man who has found Jesus’ company within his own soul is happy enough to say his prayers in a little chapel of rough unpolished stone where there is nothing carved or painted to distract the eye, as fine hangings, no marble pavements or blaze of candles, no glittering of golden vessels’.

The point of all this simplicity was not Iconoclasm, but to remove the distractions which draw the mind from the silent prayer of the heart, a way of prayer preserved (and at times forgotten) in the monastic tradition from its very beginning with the desert fathers.

Aelred’s generous personality embraced all who came to live in the monastery. He genuinely believed that a monk who left, would be offering himself to temptation and endangering his own soul. Thus he was prepared to persevere with more difficult characters than most abbots would have tolerated. Aelred was truly an ‘Abba’, a father, who although not blinded to human folly, believed in the redeeming power of God to transform even the frailest of sinners.

THE LAST CRUSADE

Book Review – ‘The Last Crusade’ by Warren H Carroll, a commentary on the Spanish Civil War.

‘Crusade’ means a war for the sake of the Cross, a war to protect Christian people from persecution and death on account of their faith in Jesus Christ. Everyone has heard of the crusades of the Middle Ages. Few know of the crusade of our time, which living men still remember, fought for this purpose only sixty years ago in Spain.

In just six months of the year 1936, thirteen bishops and nearly seven thousand priests, seminarians, monks and nuns were martyred in Spain by the enemies of Christianity. It was the greatest clerical bloodletting in so short a span of time since the persecutions of the Church by the ancient Roman Emperors. Already Pope John Paul 11 has beatified some two hundred of these martyrs. Tens of thousands of churches, chapels and shrines in Spain were pillaged or destroyed. In response, faithful Spanish Catholics proclaimed a crusade. Against all odds the crusaders triumphed and the Church and the Faith in Spain were saved.

This is the story of that crusade, now honoured in no other book in print in the English language. Most people who know the Spanish Civil War do not understand why it was fought or how it was really won. This book tells you and there is no other story like it in the history of the twentieth century.

The religious persecution undertaken was impossible to defend or justify, then or later. Consequently reporters, writers and historians of the Left persuasion talked about the persecutions and martyrdoms as little as possible and this ‘dim-out’, if not blackout in the standard communications media (a practice which we have become only too familiar with since 1936) dimmed and eventually eclipsed public perception and memory of the events.

This book has been donated to the oblate library. Oblates who were interested in the previous account of the ‘Benedictine Martyrs of El Pueyo’ may wish to expand their understanding of the events which brought on the El Pueyo bloodbath.

MEETING PLACE

PRAYER LIST

ITEMS OF INTEREST

FAITH FORMATION

THE LAST CRUSADE