Category Archives: Blessed Virgin Mary

Praying for the sick


The Comfort of the Mystical Body
Nearly every day people write to us or come to the monastery asking us to pray for the sick. This is a request that we take to heart. I know well that, apart from physical discomfort, weakness, and pain, sickness often brings fear, a sense of foreboding, and the impression of being useless, or even a burden to others. I know, too, that when one is sick, one may have the desire to pray. but the incapacity to do so. It becomes difficult to concentrate. One experiences an aching need for God and, at the same, one has the impression of being totally incapable of reaching out to Him. At times like this, the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ becomes immensely comforting; while one member of the Body suffers, another prays, and this, in such wise, that suffering and prayer are united in each.

therese1.JPGTemptations of the Sick

Three days before she died, I saw her in such pain that I was heartbroken. When I drew near to her bed, she tried to smile, and, in a strangled sort of voice, she said: “If I didn’t have faith, I could never bear such suffering. I am surprised that there aren’t more suicides among atheists. (Saint Thérèse, as reported by Sister Marie of the Trinity)

The sick are especially vulnerable to temptations against hope; the sick are often tempted to despair, to blasphemy against the Will of God, and to disbelief. For this reason it is important to pray for the sick — not only for their physical healing, but also that, in their weakness, they may be protected and sustained by the loving hand of God. Pray for the sick! So often they cannot pray for themselves, or have the impression of being unable to pray, which is itself a terrible suffering.

Discretion
It is important not to assault the sick with pious recommendations to say this prayer or that. Although this may be done with the best intentions, it often has the effect of oppressing the sick person with yet another experience of the inability to measure up to unrealistic expectations. The intemperate zeal of the pious can, unwittingly, push a sick person over the edge into a kind of despondency. It is better to pray quietly and peacefully, while offering the comfort of a gentle and compassionate presence.

Our Lady
I know of no better way of praying for the sick than by entrusting them to the care of the Immaculate Virgin Mary. Her maternal Heart overflows with tenderness for all who are weak, diminished, and fearful in the face of suffering. There is no suffering with which she is not familiar. The resources of her compassion are inexhaustible.

Stultus in risu exaltat vocem suam (VII:10)

7 Feb. 8 June. 8 Oct.
The tenth degree of humility is, that he be not easily moved and prompt to laughter; because it is written: “The fool lifteth up his voice in laughter.”

The Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Degrees of Humility are three aspects of a single proposition. Saint Benedict would have us understand that humility and pride are in the power of a man’s tongue.

If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man. He is able also with a bridle to lead about the whole body. For if we put bits into the mouths of horses, that they may obey us, and we turn about their whole body. Behold also ships, whereas they are great, and are driven by strong winds, yet are they turned about with a small helm, whithersoever the force of the governor willeth. Even so the tongue is indeed a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold how small a fire kindleth a great wood. And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity. The tongue is placed among our members, which defileth the whole body, and inflameth the wheel of our nativity, being set on fire by hell. For every nature of beasts and of birds, and of serpents, and of the rest, is tamed, and hath been tamed, by the nature of man: But the tongue no man can tame, an unquiet evil, full of deadly poison. By it we bless God and the Father: and by it we curse men, who are made after the likeness of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not so to be. Doth a fountain send forth, out of the same hole, sweet and bitter water? Can the fig tree, my brethren, bear grapes; or the vine, figs? So neither can the salt water yield sweet. Who is a wise man, and endued with knowledge among you? Let him shew, by a good conversation, his work in the meekness of wisdom. (James 3:2–13)

If you would be humble, control your tongue. If you would control your tongue, give place to Christ in your thoughts. If you would give place to Christ in your thoughts, fill your heart with the Word of God. What goes in comes out.

A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good: and an evil man out of the evil treasure bringeth forth that which is evil. For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. (Luke 6:45)

Attend to the liturgical providence of God. The Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Degrees of Humility occur at the same time as the feast of the Most Pure Heart of Mary in our proper liturgical calendar. Silence and humility become the virtues of predilection of souls who approach the Most Pure Heart of Mary, and who linger in her company. Our feast of the Most Pure Heart of Mary (as instituted by Saint Jean Eudes on February 8, 1642 and later adopted by Mother Mectilde de Bar and the Benedictines of the Most Holy Sacrament) falls within the Octave of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary; it is a liturgical rumination of the prophecy of Saint Simeon and, at the same time, of the two Lucan verses concerning the Immaculate Heart of Mary:

And Simeon blessed them, and said to Mary his mother: Behold this child is set for the fall, and for the resurrection of many in Israel, and for a sign which shall be contradicted; And thy own soul a sword shall pierce, that, out of many hearts, thoughts may be revealed. (Luke 2:34–35)
But Mary kept all these words, pondering them in her heart. (Luke 2:19)
And his mother kept all these words in her heart. (Luke 2:51)

Saint Benedict tells us that certain things are incompatible with humility: much talking; boisterous or sarcastic laughter; talking that is disproportionately loud; and talking that is inflated by the need to affirm oneself and impose one’s thoughts on others. All these things are indicators of pride. A sure cure for these things is a man’s intimacy with the Most Pure Heart of Mary. One cannot live in the presence of Mary without growing in the practice of humility and silence. In this regard, the rosary is a school of humility and silence. Not only does the rosary, as Father Marie–Joseph Lagrange, O.P. (1855–1938) once said, “decapitate pride”; it also opens the door of an interior cloister that is perfectly silent, giving access to the hortus conclusus that is the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

As a commentary on the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Degrees of Humility, I recommend Robert Cardinal Sarah’s book, The Power of Silence. The book is suffused with the spirit of Saint Benedict, revealing the influence of monastic life on Cardinal Sarah. He writes:

Silence is not an idea; it is the path that enables human beings to go to God. God is silence, and this divine silence dwells within a human being. By living with the silent God, and in Him, we ourselves become silent. Nothing will more readily make us discover God than this silence inscribed at the heart of our being. I am not afraid to state that to be a child of God is to be a child of silence.

Misericordia in medio templi

PurificationThe Mercy of God in the Midst of the Temple
The Mass of the feast of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary  (Candlemass) opens with these words: «We receive, O God, thy mercy, in the midst of thy temple» (Psalm 47:10). In the Middle Ages, Candlemass was also called Susception Day, from the first word of the Introit: Suscepimus. «We receive, O God, thy mercy, in the midst of thy temple». Symbolically, when we receive our blessed candles on February 2nd, we are receiving the Infant Christ, the light of the world, the mercy of the Father sent to save and heal a people languishing «in darkness and in the shadow of death» (Luke 1:79).

When the fulness of the time was come, God sent his Son, made of a woman, made under the law: That he might redeem them who were under the law: that we might receive the adoption of sons. (Galatians 4:4–5)

The Little Son of Mary
The one thing that everyone finds irresistible is to hold a baby, even if only for a few moments. Elders are transformed by it. Boys suddenly become tender, and girls motherly. Even small children vie for the privilege of holding the newest arrival in the family. As the little one is passed from one person to the next, faces grow bright with joy. A little baby has the power to light up a room. The Little One we celebrate on Candlemass Day has the power to light up the world: «A light to the revelation of the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel» (Luke 2:32). The little Son of Mary, acknowledges as his own the one who receives him, and on the one who holds him, he confers a new identity: divine sonship.

He came unto his own, and his own received him not. But as many as received him, he gave them power to be made the sons of God, to them that believe in his name. (John 1:11–12)

An antiphon from the Divine Office of the feast sings that, «the ancient carried the
Infant, but the Infant guided the steps of the ancient». Simeon, the image of all that in us has grown old with waiting, carries Mercy in his arms, but Mercy, by the light that shines on his face, guides the old man’s steps. If we would be guided by Mercy, we must first receive the Mercy of God that comes to us in the outstretched arms of a little Child asking only to be held.

What Can Bring Us Happiness?
The Introit says that Mercy is given us in medio templi, in the midst of the temple. This places the Infant Christ, the human Face of Divine Mercy, at the heart of the feast. All of the other figures in the Gospel are seen in relation to the Child. All of the other figures appear in the light of his face. «What can bring us happiness?» they ask. «The light of thy countenance O Lord, is signed upon us» (Psalm 4:7). «Come ye to him», they say one to another, «and be enlightened»( Psalm 33:6). The infant Christ is placed in our arms that we might gaze upon the human face of Divine Mercy and, in the light of that face, be transformed.

Four Enduring Images
In the Gospel for the the feast of Candlemass, Luke 2:22–32, the Holy Ghost has inscribed four enduring images of the monastic life that we, at Silverstream Priory, are striving to emulate. These are images full of freshness, vitality, and hope: the Virgin Mother, Saint Joseph, Saint Simeon, and Saint Anna.

Our Lady
Blessed Mary is completely silent in this Gospel. Even when addressed by Simeon, Our Lady remains silent. Her silence is an intensity of listening. She is silent so as to take in Simeon’s song of praise, silent so as to capture his mysterious prophecy and hold it in her heart. She is silent because today her eyes say everything, eyes fixed on the face of the Infant Christ, eyes illumined by the brightness of his appearing. She is the bride of the Canticle of whom it is said, «How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou! Thy eyes are doves’ eyes, hid beneath thy veil» (Song of Songs 4:1). Monastic life, at Silverstream Priory and wherever it is found, begins in the silence of Mary and in the light of her eyes, eyes made bright by the contemplation of the Face of Christ.

Saint Joseph
Saint Joseph shares Mary’s silence. Silence is the expression of their communion in a tender and chaste love. Joseph listens with Mary. Saint Joseph is the first to enter the sanctuary of the Virgin’s silence. It is Saint Joseph’s way of loving, his way of trusting his Virgin Bride beyond words. The silence of Saint Joseph becomes for us monks a way of loving, a way of trusting, a way of pushing back the frontiers of hope. Saint Joseph is necessary to the unfolding of the plan of salvation; God willed to have need of him. Saint Joseph’s role, like that of Mary, is not limited by time and space. Saint Joseph, Protector of the Universal Church, stands beside the Mother of the Church today: silent, listening, and tenderly focused on the Face of Christ in the least of his members.

Saint Simeon
Saint Simeon represents the old priesthood disappearing into the light of Christ, our «merciful and faithful high priest before God» (Hebrews 2:17). Simeon is the old priest pointing to the new. He speaks; he sings his praise; he utters prophecy. In this Saint Simeon models the vocation of every priest called to instruct, to lift his voice in the Great Thanksgiving of the Holy Sacrifice, and to deliver the message of God in the power of the Holy Ghost. Saint Simeon had a particular relationship with the Holy Ghost. Three times in as many verses Saint Luke emphasizes the mystical synergy (working–together) of Simeon and the Holy Ghost: «And the Holy Ghost was in him» (Luke 2:25); «And he had received an answer from the Holy Ghost» (Luke 2:26); «And he came by the Spirit into the temple» (Luke 2:27). In Saint Simeon, we Benedictine monks have a model of «life in the Holy Ghost». We today, like Simeon of old, are called to contemplate the Face of the Infant Christ and to raise our voices in thanksgiving for the consolation of all believers.

Ruler of all, now dost thou let thy servant go in peace, according to thy word; for my own eyes have seen that saving power of thine which thou hast prepared in the sight of all nations. This is the light which shall give revelation to the Gentiles, this is the glory of thy people Israel. (Luke 2:29–32)

Saint Anna
Finally, there is Saint Anna the prophetess. Anna is the daughter of Phanuel, whose name means «Face of God». Anna has made the temple her home. Abiding day and night in adoration, she emerges from the recesses of the temple only to give thanks to God and speak of the Child. Drawn into the light of the Face of Christ, Anna cannot but praise God and publish the good news «to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem» (Luke 2:38). In some way, Anna of the Face of God is the first apostle sent out by the the Holy Ghost. Before Mary Magdalene and before the twelve Apostles, Anna announces Christ. She is compelled to speak but does so out of an “adoring silence.” She emerges from her cloister of perpetual adoration in the temple to publish the long-awaited arrival of Mercy with the light of his Face shining in her eyes.

Never to Despair of the Mercy of God
Jesus Christ, Mercy–in–the–Flesh, allowed himself to be passed from the arms of the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph into the arms of Simeon and, then, undoubtedly into the embrace of holy Anna. The festival of the Purification of the Blessed Virgin Mary celebrates the descent of Mercy, the reception of Mercy, and the exchange of Mercy. Mercy given from on high, Mercy embraced in the midst of the Church, Mercy exchanged among us. Benedictine life at Silverstream Priory is just that. “O God, we have received thy Mercy, in the midst of thy temple” (Psalm 47:10). The feast of Candlemass makes every year a Year of Mercy. And we, Benedictines of Silverstream repeat today what our father Saint Benedict says to us in Chapter IV of his Holy Rule: «Never to despair of the mercy of God».

Saint Ildephonsus of Toledo

presentation_cope_ildefonsus_hi.jpgDoctor of the Virginity of Mary
Today is the feast of Saint Ildephonsus, Archbishop of Toledo (+ 23 January 667). Dom Guéranger calls him the Doctor of the Virginity of Mary. Saint Ildephonsus established the feast of the Expectation of the Blessed Virgin Mary, which is still kept in some places on December 18th.

At the Altar
It is recounted that on this feast of the Mother of God, Archbishop Ildephonsus, together with some of his clergy, hastened to church before the hour of Matins to honour Our Blessed Lady with their songs. Arriving close to the church, they found it all ablaze with a heavenly radiance. This so frightened the little band that all fled, except for Archbishop Ildephonsus and his two faithful deacons. Deacons, take note! With wildly beating hearts, these entered the church and made their way to the altar. A great mystery was about to unfold.

A Chasuble from the Treasury of Heaven
There, seated on the Archbishop’s throne, was the august Queen of Heaven surrounded by choirs of angels and holy virgins. The chants of paradise filled the air. Our Blessed Lady beckoned Ildephonsus to approach her. Looking upon him with tenderness and majesty, she said: “Thou art my chaplain and faithful notary. Receive from me this chasuble, which my Son sends you from His treasury.” Having said this, the Immaculate Virgin clothed Ildephonsus in the chasuble, and instructed him to wear it for the Holy Sacrifice on her festivals.

The acel_greco_ildefonso.jpgcount of this apparition, and of the miraculous chasuble, was deemed so certain and utterly beyond doubt, that news of it spread through the Church, even reaching the Ethiopians. The Church of Toledo honoured the event with a special proper Mass and Office. What was the miraculous chasuble like? Artists through the ages have sought to depict it, more often than not in rich brocades of gold and blue.

Gifts from Heaven
Sceptics may smile condescendingly and dismiss the story as a pious fabulation. Serious studies of the various gratiae gratis datae — graces freely given — are not without evidence of the phenomenon of material gifts brought from heaven. One finds examples of it as recently as in the life of Mother Yvonne-Aimée of Malestroit (1901-1951). A classic example of the phenomenon would be the cincture of the Angelic Warfare with which angels girded Saint Thomas Aquinas after his victory over a temptation of the flesh.

The Prayer of Saint Ildephonsus
I have used the celebrated prayer of Saint Ildephonsus to renew my total consecration to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

I am thy slave, because Thy Son is my Master. Therefore thou art my Lady, because thou art the handmaid of my Lord. Therefore I am the slave of the handmaid of my Lord, because thou, my Lady, didst become the Mother of my Lord. Therefore I have become thy slave, because thou didst become the Mother of my Maker.

You will find the full text of the prayer here together with Murillo’s depiction of Our Lady’s bestowal of the chasuble from heaven.

What Are the Instruments of Good Works (IV:IV)

Notre–Dame–de–Bonne–Délivrance (Paris) before whom Saint Francis de Sales was delivered from the temptation to despair of the mercy of God.

21 Jan. 22 May. 21 Sept.
62. Daily to fulfil by one’s deeds the commandments of God.
63. To love chastity.
64. To hate no man.
65. Not to give way to jealousy and envy.
66. Not to love strife.
67. To fly from vainglory.
68. To reverence the Seniors.
69. To love the juniors.
70. To pray for one’s enemies in the love of Christ.
71. To make peace with an adversary before the setting of the sun.
72. And never to despair of God’s mercy.

Behold, these are the tools of the spiritual craft, which, if they be constantly employed day and night, and duly given back on the day of judgment, will gain for us from the Lord that reward which He Himself hath promised – “which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard; nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive what God hath prepared for them that love Him.” And the workshop where we are to labour at all these things is the cloister of the monastery, and stability in the community.

• Chapter IV ends with ten commandments of God for life together in charity and in peace. Saint Benedict would have each of his monks fulfill by his deeds this closing series of commandments. Saint Benedict, who was no stranger to the temptations of the flesh, begins with the love of chastity. The man who loves chastity will, even if he must pass through the crucible of many temptations and humiliating reversals, enter into the joy of chastity. “Love chastity”, says Saint Benedict, knowing full well that the man who loves chastity will be a happy man, and that is good and pleasant to live in community with men who are happy. Vice, be it unchastity or any other vice, has never made a man happy. On the contrary, the signature of vice is unhappiness, sadness, and perpetual dissatisfaction. Saint Benedict enjoins his monks to love chastity because he wants them to be happy men, men capable of singing with the Psalmist: “Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity” (Psalm 132:1).

• Hatred is toxic. Saint Benedict says, “Hate no man”. Satan seeks, by every means at his disposal, to sow the seeds of enmity among brethren. Hatred does not declare itself as such straightaway. It begins as a petty annoyance, as an insuperable antipathy. And it grows. It grows in the dark. And one day, there is hatred in one’s heart. One must react vigorously to the very first movements of antipathy, however subtle they may be, lest they grow into the kind of thing that foments discord, detraction, backbiting, and division.

• Saint Benedict recognises the dangers presented by jealousy and envy. Jealousy rears its ugly head when one feels that who one is, or what one has — one’s special gifts, one’s place in the community, the place one holds in the affection of another — is threatened by another. Envy occurs when one wants what another has: material things, physical or intellectual attributes, talents, and friendships. One in the grip of jealousy or envy begins to look upon one’s brother with a jaundiced eye. Jealousy and envy can so blur one’s vision that one’s entire perception of reality becomes distorted. Thoughts of jealousy and envy must be, as Saint Benedict says, dashed down on the Rock, that is Christ, the instant that they come into the heart, and laid open to one’s spiritual father. This latter point can be difficult and humiliating. No one likes to admit feelings of jealousy and envy. All the same, exposing them to the light is their undoing.

• Saint Benedict says that his monks are not to love strife. You may have known individuals who love strife: such individuals thrive on conflict. They need to have an enemy at all times. They are not content unless they are discontent, and not at peace unless they are at odds with someone. The lover of strife thinks, “If I cannot get close to the one I hate, I can, at least, hate the one to whom I close”. We see this kind of thing played out in families and in the workplace. In the monastery, where emotions are easily magnified by the observances of silence and enclosure, the love of strife is particularly dangerous and can threaten the peace of the whole community.

• Saint Benedict would have his monks fly from vain–glory. Vain–glory is, some would say, an old–fashioned sort of word; few people today have any notion of what the word means. Vainglory comes from the Greek κενοδοξία, literally empty glory. It is a capital vice; that is, a vice that gives birth to other vices. The man in the grip of vainglory wants to be seen as excellent, superior, surpassing others in virtue, knowledge, ability, or physical attributes. Saint Thomas (Summa II:2, q. 132) says that the end of vainglory is the manifestation of one’s own excellence; he identifies the daughters of vainglory as follows: boasting, love of novelties, hypocrisy, obstinacy, discord, contention, and disobedience.

• Reverence for the seniors and love for the juniors is an expression of charity and the assurance of peace in a community. When seniors are set against juniors and juniors against seniors, as sometimes happens in monasteries, the community falls into sterility, vocations dry up, decadence enters in, and mortal decline accelerates. In our community, as we grow in number, we must do everything to put into practice these two instruments of good works. If each brother reverences the fathers senior to him and loves the brothers junior to him, our monastery will flourish, vocations will abound, observance will be good, and our life will be fruitful in accord with Our Lord’s word, “In this is my Father glorified; that you bring forth very much fruit” (John 15:8).

• To pray for one’s enemies in the love of Christ and to make peace with an adversary before the setting of the sun are two indispensable instruments. Praying for one’s enemies can bring about miracles of grace. The prayer of forgiveness and reparation that we distribute has changed lives and brought peace to hearts long troubled by the refusal to forgive. Making peace with one’s adversary (or with one perceived as an adversary) fosters humility, builds up charity, strengthens unity, and produces gladness. Holding on to enmity causes one to swell up with pride, increases antipathies, foments division, and lodges sadness in the cloister.

• And so we come to the 73rd and last instrument of good works: “And never to despair of God’s mercy”. Be alert to the tactics of the devil. He is forever trying to push souls, or drag them, or get them to throw themselves, into the pit of despair. He does this principally by whispering: “Look at yourself. You are a failure, a bad monk, a vice–ridden wretch and there is no hope for you, no grace, no mercy. Just accept this state of things and get on with your miserable existence. You might as well live a desperate little life because you are, in any case, going to die in despair”. As soon as you begin to hear such despicable diabolical insinuations, run— do not walk — run to the Mother of God and cast yourself at her feet. Blurt out to her all that you are feeling; hold nothing back; tell her the whole sorry tale. (Not for nothing do we have in our monastery a statue of Our Lady of Good Deliverance; it was at the feet of this statue that Saint Francis de Sales, in the throes of a crippling temptation to despair, stammered a Memorare, and found himself freed from despair and filled with trust in the love of God.) And, then, go to your spiritual father and ask him to help you send all such despicable diabolical insinuations back to hell whence they came in the first place. Even if a monk has failed to implement the 72 first instruments of good works, he can still lay hold of the 73rd, and by means of it, draw down the great strong arms of the mercy of God, who desires nothing more than to lift him out of his misery and press him against His Heart.

Saint Benedict says that “the workshop where we are to labour at all these things is the cloister of the monastery and stability in the community”. A monastery is, in a very real way, a “sheltered workshop”. We are, all of us, fragile men, souls at risk, travelers wearied and bruised along the way. Saint Aelred says that the “singular and supreme glory” of his abbey, Rievaulx, was that it taught “tolerance of the infirm and compassion with others in their necessities”. Among the most subtle and destructive temptations that can befall a monk are those against enclosure and stability. The monk who entertains the idea of leaving the sheltered workshop of the cloister, should he carry out his design, risks leaving behind him all 73 instruments of good works, including the last one. There are too many tragic stories of monks who, having been deceived by devil and seduced into leaving the monastery, found themselves washed up amidst the flotsam and jetsome of this world’s moral wreckage. It is an old story, as old as the drama of the first pages of Genesis and of the temptations of Our Lord Himself. Saint Benedict unmasks this last temptation and assures us that for the man who perseveres, there will be, at the end, and even in little glimpses and forestastes along the way, “things no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no human heart conceived, the welcome God has prepared for those who love him” (2 Corinthians 2:9).

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Situated amidst pasture land and forest in the eastern reaches of County Meath, Silverstream Priory was founded in 2012 at the invitation of the Most Reverend Michael Smith, Bishop of Meath, and canonically erected as an autonomous monastery of diocesan right on 25 February 2017. The property belonged, from the early 15th century, to the Preston family, premier Viscounts of Ireland and Lords of Gormanston. In 1843 Thomas Preston (1817-1903), son of Jenico Preston, the 12th Viscount (1775-1860), built what today is Silverstream Priory.

Silverstream Priory is a providential realisation of the cherished project of Abbot Celestino Maria Colombo, O.S.B. (1874–1935), who, following the impetus given by Catherine–Mectilde de Bar in the 17th century, sought to establish a house of Benedictine monks committed to ceaseless prayer before the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar in a spirit of reparation. The community of Silverstream Priory holding to the use of Latin and Gregorian Chant, celebrate the Divine Office in its traditional Benedictine form and Holy Mass in the “Usus Antiquior” of the Roman Rite. Praying and working in the enclosure of the monastery, the monks of Silverstream keep at heart the sanctification of priests labouring in the vineyard of the Lord. They undertake various works compatible with their monastic vocation, notably the development of the land and gardens, hospitality to the clergy in need of a spiritual respite, scholarly work, and publishing.

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