Creating New Rhythms

By Lisa Kutolowski

A bizarre side effect of the COVID-19 pandemic and the corresponding school and business closings, gathering suspensions, and stay-at-home orders is many of our former ways of marking the hours and days of the week have been upended. We still have the sun’s rising and setting, our clocks, and possibly online meetings for work or school—but many of us are left with day after day of largely unstructured time stretched out before us. This doesn’t imply we have less to do. In fact, many people—health care workers, farmers, lab technicians, parents, etc.—have more on their plates during this time. Many other workers and students have a new burden of figuring out how to continue their work or schooling in this new environment. It can all be a little crazy making.
 
We are creatures of habit and most of us thrive on some degree of rhythm and routine. I have already begun to hear people talk about “the new normal.” I’m sure you have, too. We can only tolerate the whole-sale disruption of our routines for so long before we settle into new grooves. This interruption of our daily routines, then, is an unprecedented moment to reorient our lives—to intentionally order our days and our weeks around a more life-giving, spirit-nourishing source than previously seemed possible. 
 
The last three years Mark and I have been experimenting with this very thing. We have been seeking to structure our waking hours around the Benedictine way of following Christ—a monastic discipline of life that is shaped by prayer, work, and study. One of the key commitments in the Rule of Saint Benedict is ‘stability of life’—to commit to a physical place. Those of us who are relegated to our homes now have this key element of the Benedictine life thrust upon us. With the scattering of our normal routines, the well-worn, centuries old Benedictine path offers a rhythm and intention of life that both nourishes us and offers an opportunity to serve the world at the very time when we must stay put in one place with the same people day in and day out. What are some of the gifts of the Benedictine way?
 
1. Morning to morning: The gift of silence (especially when living in close and consistent company)
 
Benedictine communities keep what they call “the grand silence” from Compline (the bedtime prayer) through mid-morning the following day. While monastic life typically does not include a lot of chit-chat, these nighttime and early morning hours are especially free from conversation in order to create the spaciousness needed to listen to the wisdom of God, our hearts, and creation. 
 
We have adopted this practice of silent mornings when we guide River of Life Pilgrimages, and the act of moving silently through the morning with a group of people has been one of the most profound experiences for many of our participants. Mark and I have also taken on this discipline within our home, often refraining from speech until 10am (the hour of Terce—see below). We have found that this practice supports relational harmony given our living situation in which we are both home most days and sharing 314 square feet of inside space. 
 
As the stay-at-home orders continue and our homes begin to feel too small and the physical nearness of our family and roommates begins to feel suffocating, taking on a kind of “grand silence” may provide some needed psychic space and a softer entry into each day. Of course, this isn’t a complete substitute for total alone time—especially for parents and introverts—but it is a simple way of creating just a little more space in each day.
 
2. Hour to hour: Regular opportunities throughout the day to return to our hearts and God
 
Life in a Benedictine community is defined by its rhythm of prayer and work—also known as ‘ora et labora’. Benedictine nuns and monks pray together seven times a day—pre-dawn (vigils), at sunrise (lauds), mid-morning (terce), noonday (sext), mid-afternoon (none), at sunset (vespers), and at bedtime (compline)[1]. Work, study, and meals takes place in between these times. This daily routine creates an ebb and flow of work and prayer that becomes as cyclical as one’s very breath. The regularity of these set-apart times of prayer invites the awareness of God’s presence to infuse the rest of the day, ideally making all other activities prayer as well.
 
In these weeks, when our typical markers of time and routine have been removed, we can adopt aspects of this Benedictine rhythm as a means of structuring our own days. Seven times a day can be a really overwhelming place to begin, but perhaps a morning, midday, and evening prayer that corresponds with mealtimes could work well for you and your family. The times of prayer also need not be long, especially the three midday prayers—terce, sext, and none. Even in monastic communities, these times are quite short and are known as the ‘little hours.’ They serve as a simple return and reminder of God’s presence with us.  
 
The most important thing about these regular times of prayer is that they help us dip back into the wellspring of Christ’s love. Keeping the Liturgy of the Hours isn’t about a sense of righteousness stemming from duty or obligation. Rather, they are an incredible tool to pick up when we are aware of our own weakness, forgetfulness, and need. In the midst of a lot of chaos, frightening news stories, and insecurity, they are opportunities to return to our own hearts nestled within the infinite love of God.
 
You may have the very legitimate question of what to do or how to structure these prayers. There are many options. Benedictine monasteries sing or recite the Psalms at each time of prayer. Depending on your responsibilities,[2] keeping these hours could be as simple as setting a watch for the times and when the bell rings breathing five deep breaths or saying a short prayer, such as the Jesus Prayer (‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner’). At our home, times of prayer include song, readings, spoken prayers, and silence. Click here to find a downloadable copy of the format we use.Follow them as is, adapt them as works for your home, or use them as inspiration to craft your own home liturgy.
 
3. Moment to moment: The eternal and infinite power of prayer
 
The radical notion implied in the very existence of a contemplative monastic community—like a traditional Benedictine community—is that prayer is a powerful gift and service to the world. This idea was so offensive to early American ideals that all monasteries established in the United States before the 1950s were required to have an outward expression of service—a school, hospital, orphanage, etc. Most American Christians are children of this thinking—that to minister to people’s needs I must be physically (or at the very least, virtually) present to them. This kind of service is good, beautiful, and true. However, the goodness of outward and active ministry does not negate or diminish the need for the ministry of prayer.
 
It is a painful sacrifice to be physically isolated from our families, our friends, our elderly or ill loved ones, our church community, and our students—especially in a time of so much need. The outward expressions of care still available to us—video calls, phone calls, cards—are precious ways of connecting. At the same time, our current situation is an invitation to lean into and discover anew the gift of prayer—prayer that reaches toward, encounters, and dwells in the Spirit of God who is nearer to me than any other relationship. Prayer is eternal—transcending all time—and infinite—transcending all space—because the God to whom we pray is greater than the limits of time and space.
 
This is a time of great suffering that extends far beyond those falling ill from COVID-19. People are afraid. People are lonely. Our social systems are shaky. It feels like there may not be enough—enough masks, test kits, money, food. Most of us feel like we can’t do much about it. 
 
But we can. We are already deep into the season of Lent—forty days set aside to spiritually walk the path of Christ that leads to the cross. As Christ bore the sufferings of the world, so too are we being called to carry the sufferings of our world in this time to the eternal and infinite love of God—to be vessels through which Christ’s healing can flow. 
 
We invite you to pray in this way as you are able. We also extend the invitation to share your concerns, your prayer requests, and your intentions with us so we may together carry these concerns into the realm of God’s love. Click here to share—anonymously and confidentially—your prayer intentions with us.

[1] Mark, the ‘Benedictine nerd’ of the family, informs me that there are technically seven daytime ‘offices’ of prayer (including ‘prime’) in the Rule of Benedict, with Vigils counting as a separate ‘night office.' For what it's worth. 

[2] Those of you suddenly juggling full-time parenting, your child’s schooling and working from home—I see you.

Isolation, Solitude & Our Need for Connection

By Mark & Lisa Kutolowski

Social distancing. Self-isolation. Quarantine. These, of course, are the suggestions—rapidly turning into mandates—to humanity around the world in order to reduce the overwhelming spread of COVID-19. The social ordering of our lives has been upended wholescale and millions of us are cut off from the normal routines and social contact that made sense of our lives. Most of us have put in a great deal of energy into building lives that are connected—not isolated. 
 
These social restrictions are prudent and necessary in regards to viral transmission. However, we know isolation also carries with it many dangers to the health of mind and soul (as well as body—we thrive on human touch!) Understandably, we fear isolation. When we feel isolated, we often become afraid, anxious, and panicked. In isolation, we lose contact with our usual sources of loving connection. We often end up losing access to the warmth and love that these relationships enkindle within our own hearts. 
 
What, then, are we to do? We might try to mask the feeling of emptiness and dis-ease by filling our time with screens—obsessively collecting updates about the COVID-19 outbreak in an effort to regain a sense of control or watching movies and TV shows to distract ourselves from painful feelings. While these behaviors may temporarily mask the pain, they do nothing to reconnect us to love and to life. We also continue to be in relationship with each other in the ways available to us. However, social media can only give a brief illusion of connection. It cannot bring the warmth of real human contact. Even video chats and phone calls with loved ones only go so far. I (Lisa) spent the end of last week in a bit of a frenzy in an attempt to socially connect with friends near and far. These emails and conversations are good and beautiful touchstones, but they left me longing for more. 
 
My (Mark’s) spiritual father, Fr. Kelly Nemick, spent most of his life alone, in prayerful retreat in a hermitage on the edge of a property where he served as priest and spiritual director. In our conversations he made a careful distinction between isolation and solitude. Isolation, according to Fr. Kelly, is when a human being is cut off from relationship with others – whether with God or with other people. Isolation means moving away from intimacy and being closed off from the flow of love and connection that is meant to be shared between beings. To live a full, joyful human life, we all need to be in loving relationship. Isolation, then, is against life.
 
So in a time of forced isolation, what can we do?
 
What are the consequences of an entire country being forced to self-isolate without being given the inner resources to handle this radical shift?
 
What new practices must we cultivate for the health of our souls, families, communities, nation, and world?
 
The answer lies in Fr. Kelly’s contradistinction to isolation, which is solitude. Solitude, he taught, is not a movement away from love, but a movement away from certain forms of human contact in order to connect with love at a deeper level. A Christian hermit goes to his or her cell not to run from love, but to run to the deepest love a human being can come to know—the Love that is God. It’s all a matter of intention and desire. With a heart oriented towards God, a separation from human society can be a doorway into a more intentional opening to the source of Love itself, that is God. Spiritual hermits are a living paradox—they are among the most alone of all people, but have become some of the most loving, free, joyful people ever to live, with hearts burning with love for God, humanity, and for all creation.
 
Relationship with God, which can be cultivated in solitude, is one way to stay connected with life in a time of forced isolation from human contact. The Christian story speaks of the redemption of three other primary relationships—relationship with others, relationship with self, and relationship with Creation. As circumstances have forced us to decrease our contact with other human beings, we can consciously intensify our relationships with God, nature, and with our selves. In this way, it is possible to remain connected to the flow of love and life that is the essence of relationship, even if we are living alone in forced ‘isolation’ from other human beings for a time. 
 
To stay connected to love and life in a time of forced isolation from others takes discipline. We’ll often be drawn to grasp at false substitutes. Yet each time we turn to connect to God, to our own inner depths, or to the natural world we strengthen our connection to love. We will remain in relationship, and therefore remain in love. In this way, it is possible to turn isolation into solitude and this time of forced separation into a training ground for a deeper and more whole life.
 
In the coming weeks, we’ll be reflecting on some of the ‘tools’ of the spiritual life that we can use to open more radically to the gifts of solitude. We are also going to experiment with online discussions about these ‘tools’ to help all of us lean into the gifts at hand. For the life of the world, may we all embrace this opportunity to nurture our relationship with God, our truest selves, and Creation during this time of upheaval.

The Spiritual Opportunities of COVID-19

By Mark Kutolowski

I write two days after the World Health Organization has declared the worldwide outbreak of the COVID-19 Coronavirus a global pandemic. News about this virus is dominating national and local media and public events are being cancelled everywhere—from the NBA season and university semesters to local singing circles and dinner gatherings. Sober-minded health officials have noted that it is likely that everyone on the planet will be infected by this illness eventually, with public health efforts focused on slowing the spread to allow health care systems to manage the load.

 In every life circumstance, there are spiritual gifts, freely given to those who are able to perceive them. This outbreak is no different. What then, are the spiritual opportunities of this pandemic?

1.    To recognize and honor the instinctual self: Everyone has both a material body and a psyche that are finite. They will die when we die. Yet, these parts of our selves desperately do not want to die. Our instinctual, animal inheritance is a finite self that is committed to survival at all costs, even though its inevitable end is death. When we acknowledge this aspect of self and honor its feedback, we can see it for what it is. Even more importantly, we can recognize that we are not this self. It is a part of who we are, but it is not us. It is totally natural for this aspect of self to feel great fear in the face a threat to its survival—like a global pandemic and social instability. Allow yourself to feel these fears, identify their source (the instinctual self), and do not confuse them for your true self.

2.    To remember our eternal nature: Each of us also possesses an aspect of ourselves that is eternal—our spirit that abides in union with God. We can each call to mind peak experiences—moments where we were caught up in great love or wonder, all fear dropped away, and we tasted something timeless and liberating. Those moments are break-throughs of the Spirit. In a time of great cultural fear and uncertainty, we are invited to re-connect with this aspect of our being—the tremendous inner resource of our self that is hidden in God. From this source comes a peace, freedom, and stability that allows us to face the dangers of the present with equanimity. This inner self united with Godallowed the early Christians to sing joyfully as they went to be torn apart by wild animals in ancient Rome. They were living from the realm of God where death has no power—so they were fearless in the face of the present threats to their lives. Remembering and living from the Spirit is so important that any exterior loss or hardship can be seen as a blessing if it awakens awareness of the Spirit. That’s why many alcoholics who have found God in their recovery refer to their alcoholism as a blessing.

3.    Accurate feedback as to the state of our soul: One spiritual gift of a scary situation like the coronavirus outbreak is that it provides accurate and clear feedback as to the state of our souls in each moment. Are you feeling afraid and overwhelmed? That’s a sure sign you have identified with the finite/instinctual self. Are you feeling fear as an emotion, but have access to a deeper wellspring of timeless peace? That’s a sure sign you are living in the Spirit. The greater the external strive, the more intense and direct is this feedback as to the state of our inner identification at each moment.

4.    A reminder of the fragility of life: Material life is finite. Each of us will die, our culture will collapse, and even our planet will eventually cease to exist. Yet our culture—with its obsession with youth, growth and success—encourages a constant forgetfulness of this basic truth. The COVID-19 pandemic and the ensuing illness, deaths, and strain on social systems can be a wakeup call to remember this basic truth. There’s a reason why many spiritual traditions (Christianity and Buddhism included) have included meditation on death as valuable spiritual practices.

5.    A revelation of systems of injustice: In this crisis, as in any time of societal stress, it is inevitably the poor and the marginalized who suffer the most. While the coronavirus illness itself may play no favorites, it is the wealthy who are least affected by the social fallout. The working poor, those tied into the ‘gig economy,’ and those who depend on tips will bear the brunt of the ensuing economic hardship, while the salaried will likely continue to be paid even when they are not able to work. Keep your eyes open to the social world and notice how power and wealth make their presence known in the responses to the outbreak. To have patterns of injustice revealed opens us to see reality more clearly and can open the door of the heart to compassion.

6.    An invitation to prayer and action: When we are faced with acute suffering in our communities and world, we can choose to respond with love. There may be practical ways we can serve our neighbors in their physical needs of food and basic supplies. In this time, with greater social isolation, phone calls and emotional support are invaluable. Even if our own means are very limited, each of us can pray—opening our hearts to both the source of infinite love and to the suffering of our brothers and sisters among us.

7.    Practice of sabbath: For many of us, the immediate effect of the coronavirus outbreak is that many of our work-related, academic and social activities are cancelled. We are asked to stay home. This can be an occasion for disappointment, feelings of isolation, or boredom. Or, it can be an opportunity to practice sabbath rest. Use the extra time to pray, to observe the natural world, to deeply rest. Allow yourself to let go of the need to control and build. Instead, rest in the grace of letting things be as they are.

I invite you to join me in turning to God in this time—in love and trust.