You can listen to this week’s Devotional here
Author: Christina Braudaway-Bauman
Photo: Gifts from St. John’s for our worship: pottery from St. John’s studio and a cross from the woodshop, rough, dark wood with golden brass running through the center, a sign of the resurrection.
“The bee is more honored than other animals, not because it labors, but because it labors for others.” – Saint John Chrysostom
A few weeks ago, Charley Rastle, Julie Griffitts, and I were in Minnesota for the final meeting of our church’s Communities of Calling project with the Collegeville Institute. This ecumenical Institute is affiliated with Saint John’s Abbey, a vibrant Benedictine monastery, whose ministries include a university, a seminary, a preparatory school, a publishing house, a museum, a woodworking shop, an organ building business, a pottery studio, and a bakery. St. John’s is also the home of the St. John’s Bible, the only handwritten and illuminated Bible scribed since the invention of the printing press in the 16th century.
At the center of this remarkable place is the Abbey Church, a cavernous sanctuary of dark wood, stone floors, and a wall of stained glass designed to look like a honeycomb, an architectural reflection of a beehive. Outside, in front of the Church, a massive tower stands watch over the whole campus. Its bells toll whenever it’s time for the monks to pause from their work, throw their black cassocks over their heads, and gather with their brothers, and anyone else inclined to join them, to pray.
I’ve been blessed to travel to St. John’s several times, and each time I visit I accept their invitation to attend 7 a.m. Morning Prayer. For that half hour we read Psalms aloud, or chant them, and sing canticles. I love this service, this ancient expression of prayer, both formal and plain, offered reverently in the midst of a lively and loving community of faith.
The pews in the front of the chapel where the congregation gathers are shaped in a horseshoe, with an enormous communion table anchoring the open end. In front of each chair is a shelf that contains a library of liturgical books. Before the service begins, each person takes a moment to find the assigned readings, piling open books one on top of another until the pieces are assembled. One brother is always assigned to help visitors find their way. All of this getting ready takes place in silence.
When the service begins, the gathered congregation, with no instructions offered or needed, becomes two choirs. The choir on one side reads or sings aloud while the other listens. Then the second choir picks up where the first left off. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again. The voices blend in a slow quiet unison, until you notice that you cannot hear the voices of the people sitting on either side of you, or even make out your own voice. You can only hear one sound, one song, one prayer.
One morning as I listened and read and listened, this truth dawned on me: we sounded just like bees.
And then it struck me what a deeply comforting sound that is. It’s the kind of humming that resonates in your head and your chest. It’s a sound that reminds you we are in this together. No one stands out, but no one gets lost in the crowd either. We belong to each other. No one is alone, and every voice contributes to the quiet buzzing reverberations of the choir.
In a time when the voices that garner the most attention are often self-obsessed and shrill, the monks of Saint John’s, and all who join them, pause from their work, not just once in the morning, but four times a day, to offer a very different kind of witness. They come together to pray to God, humbly, and in unison. Every day. Day after day. Without ceasing.
By these prayers, they order their days, their study, their work, and their community. The calming buzz and rhythm of their way of life is among the many generative gifts they share with others. In the midst of a world often churning with chaos and division, a community of Benedictine monks gathers quietly in a honeycomb chapel to remind us all of the enduring truth found in Ephesians. “There is one body and one Spirit,” one God, “who is above all and through all and in all.” (Ephesians 4:4-6).
Prayer: Eternal God, order our days that we may labor shoulder to shoulder, face to face and heart to heart in your vast community of care, praying and working for the day when all your people will gather together as one, in the great circle of your peace. Amen.
