Continuing the account of my participation with Women Touched by Grace, a spiritual renewal program for clergy.

Faith is caught as much as taught. We learn by doing and watching. We come to know Jesus through his love and through the love of others. Benedictine Communities are known for the practice of hospitality and commitment to greet all as though they were Christ. The United Church of Christ has used the phrase “radical hospitality” to describe our ministries.  No matter who you are or where you are on life’s journey, you are welcome here.”

April 16, 2012:  I stepped off the escalator just before the step disappeared under the floor. I introduced myself to the Sister standing holding the Women Touched by Grace sign.  Sister Mary introduced me to Dorisanne, a Baptist pastor from Texas. We waited for April, whose flight was just coming in from Minneapolis/St Paul.

Sister Mary struggled a bit with the cell phone as she called Sister Ann Patrice who was to pick us up in the van.  I climbed in the back seat and looked out the window.  Sister Ann Patrice and April had an animated conversation about the intricacies of football.  Sister Ann Patrice said she doesn’t watch football with the sisters at the Monastery because they don’t understand the game.  A year later, Sister Luke said it was fun to walk by Ann Patrice in the middle of a football game and ask, “What inning is it?”

As we drove toward Beech Grove, Ann Patrice’s cell phone went off.  She picked it up.  “We’re just getting off the interstate. Will be there in about 7 minutes.”  We drove into a circular drive and the van stopped.  Standing outside was a woman dressed in a brilliant sweater with a huge grin. April, Dorisanne, and Sister Mary, piled out first. I climbed over the middle seat and out the door. Still wobbly on my feet having just extricated myself from the van, I looked up.  The woman who stood at the entrance, opened her arms and said, “Nancy, welcome to the Benedict Inn. I’m Sister Luke.” She embraced me. 

“She knows name,”  I thought. “How did she do that?”  Perhaps it was the photo I sent as part of the application. Or she knew that April, Dorisanne and I were in the van and I was the last out. Either way, it felt good. 

Sister Luke led us to our rooms.  She showed me where the bathroom was and where I could find an extra towel.  She pointed out the phone to use to call if I needed ANYTHING—even if it was during the night.  She gave me directions to the room downstairs where there were sandwiches for supper. On the desk in the bedroom, there was a notebook with more information and a detailed schedule. There was a card from Sister Anna Marie, my prayer partner and a piece chocolate.  There was a directory which had the names and pictures of all the sisters so we could begin to learn some of them and a name tag so that we could introduce ourselves to each other.   

I wondered if I could trust this welcome.  My mother taught me not to impose—never put other people out.  Despite two inhalers, nasal spray and two pills, I was struggling with asthma and afraid.  What if I need more medical care?  Dare I call Sister Luke in the middle of the night if I couldn’t breathe?

During that first trip out to Our Lady of Grace Monastery, it was as if there was a deep collective sigh that came in response to a hospitality that was real.  “What are your needs, wants, desires?” Sister Luke asked.  I didn’t need to be in charge or take care of anyone else.  I didn’t need to pull my weight. I could be vulnerable.  I could call Sister Luke in the middle of the night and say, “I can’t breathe.”

Over the next few days, I listened to stories of deep pain, of ministry under challenging circumstances—as stories both personal and professional were shared.  Something happens when we are loved and cared for. There is that sigh.  It will be OK.  There was a freedom to share and a freedom not to share which is just as important.

Because of hospitality and a sense of safety, there was a bubbling up of vulnerability that wasn’t just what is shared outwardly, but what one is feeling internally. When we are loved and have some sacred space, it is safer to let the fears, darkness, and grief rise up where we can notice them.

Once someone has been vulnerable (but not too self-absorbed), and the experience rings true to others, we know we are not alone and community is born and strengthened. It is OK.  God loves us.

When there is space for the brokenness to emerge, there is space for the light to shine in.

God loves you. God loves us. Really loves us.  Warts and all.   It is when we know we are loved that our hearts break open and expand in love.

Some concrete observations about Our Lady of Grace Monastery. The place is immaculate. The thoughtfulness is real.  Sister Betty and Sister Luke met us at the chapel to insure we got the right prayer books.  A sister would gently help us find our way.  We were welcome to take the Eucharist.  We were invited to preach—but not forced– an amazing honor for me. There were clear boundaries. The monastery is locked—all the time.  It is not OK to sit in the prioress’ chair in the back row.  There are particular seats that some of the sisters always choose. We were not invited beyond the chapel.  The sisters, while amazingly kind, are busy and conversations are brief without a lot of small talk. The welcome protected the rhythm and routine of the hosts and left space to speak and space to be quiet. There was space for me to be alone with my own thoughts.  

The rule of St. Benedict helps folks address basic human nature and conflicts that occur. The attached photo is an example of hospitality; three very different women who have committed themselves to God each extend a warm welcome in her own ways. Can anyone look at the loving embrace between a pink wigged Sister, a a bareheaded female Baptist preacher from the south, and a habit clothed Sister and not know that the love of God is real? God’s hospitality makes room for all of us.

I am so grateful for the love and hospitality that I’ve been gifted as part of Women Touched by Grace.  I have learned something from Sister Luke and Sister Betty who created this program, from Sister Rachel who listened with love, from Sister Anna Marie who is busy and deep into her own ministry, and from all the other tired, strong, vibrant, creative, funny, fallible, faithful women clergy who have become gift for me.  I pray that somehow the gift of hospitality that has been gifted to me is flowing out into the pews of this place, the Broad Bay Congregational United Church of Christ.

May we offer to one another the gift of space to be quiet,

the gift to not be responsible and the gift to be very responsible,

the gift of shared laughter and tears, of shared strength and vulnerabilities.

May we do the earthly things like wear name tags, make sure that people have the right hymnal, be vulnerable with one another, and give people the space to be silent. 

May we greet each person as if they were Christ. Amen.