The Monks of Vina, a Movie Documentary

January 2014: My first visit to the Vina Monastery: Abbey of New Clairvaux, Vina, California.

 The Monks of Vina

The Monks of Vina, a movie documentary, takes us inside–really inside the walls, past the formal structures of the monastery. The movie delves into the thinking of some of the monks–several times over. Their personalities emerge, the joyful, the quiet, the contemplative, the artist, the potter, the unsure novice–monk in training, and so forth. It is enjoyable to watch the story of young men and older men who wrestle with the Calling to monastic life, to become a monastic. It is to give up everything material in order to gain everything in God. For three years those on the journey serve as novices until the time of their vows. It is a time of searching and learning. We learn that it is a cultural shock for each one as they leave the outside world for the simple life. One of much prayer and quietness. 

We listen to an older monk who shares the difficulty he had in coming to a place of peace before he took his vows. Once it came, he was settled and at peace. That sense of peace lasted around ten years before another period of unsettled feelings surfaced and were addressed. He had played semi-pro baseball in his younger years. There was a picture of him pitching a ball at eighty-one years of age. It looked like he still could smack it right-nicely into the catcher’s glove. Amazing.There is very little talking in a trappist monastery. They work and eat mostly in silence. Upon entering the monastic society, the monks give up their worldly possessions. There is a place where a few of their former possessions are stored away. It reminds me of what we do with our garage items. It was emphasized that one cannot join a monastic community to run away from yourself or your problems. Self will need to be addressed.

It was one of the first showings of the documentary held at the State Theater in Red Bluff, California. I was way up in the back at the top along with my brother and sister-in-law. Afterwards, there was a question and answer time. I listened as the abbott of the abbey, the winemaker, and the movie director, fielded a wide range of questions. For me, the culmination of the evening was a spiritual thought. It came when the abbot answered a question during the Q & A session after the showing of the movie.

The question was asked, “Why do you bless the grapes? What do you expect it to do?” The abbot’s response was beautiful. It went something like this, “As monks in a monastery, you would expect us to believe in the spiritual, to follow God. We believe our lives are influenced by God and we want to be all God would want us to be. Not only are we blessed by God, but many things in the world are a part of the blessings of God. We bless the grapes that they might bring blessings to the people who enjoy what they produce, as they drink the fruit of the vine,” he answered with a smile, and then continued on, “And if they drink enough of it, they’ll be happy, too!”  The audience responded to his comment with smiles and laughter. I had to agree. He was right. All we have comes from God and is a part of the blessing and the grand scheme of things. 

A blessing is a prayer of grace toward others.

http://www.monksofvina.com/about-the-film/

Book: The Meeting Place: Moments with God at Lookout Point, A Spiritual Memoir

Some books have staying power. They grip the soul. This one did as I was in the process of living out the hurts in my heart. I took a one hour retreat once a week to get away from it all. To be alone. With God. Tired. Sad. Hopeless. He met me there. I share here a few bits about my book with some selected narrations. Enjoy.

~~THE BOOK~~

Amazon Link is HERE

Lookout Point, Paradise, CA.

The Lookout is a place I visited for one hour each week for a year, starting with Good Friday in 2009.

About my book: The Meeting Place: Moments with God at Lookout Point

The Meeting Place is an inspirational book, written from the heart as I grapple with sorrow and pain. I am saddened by the loss of a dear friend and dealing with an emotionally charged family situation. The book is a conversation with God, both poignant and tender.  The beauties of nature found at the Lookout figure into the meditations.

The Lookout became my place of release, its view inspiring me to contemplate and pray. There I found solace and healing. I received in a seamless blend the awe of creation knit with my belief in a loving and caring God.

INTRODUCTION: 

“A heavy shadow engulfed me, my heart was bruised. I could not escape its torment, the garment of sadness restricting my movements. I hurt. The dark night wrapped itself around me as grief invaded my being….I let my car lead me past the church through the bright city streets and onto the Skyway, a four-lane expressway leading east from the city into the foothills. In silence I drove up the hill, memories flooding my weary thoughts.

The beauty captivates me. 

I write a poem:  

“The hawk-soaring in graceful circular patterns/Floats in seamless style/The clouds-in varied hue and shades of darkness/Black and white/Dew drops hang-on man-made fence lines/My senses feel their cool wetness/Layers upon layers of dark heavy clouds/Hiding the supreme whiteness of others/The damp drops brushing me in mist/as dark cloud hovers/Releasing its heavy load/The sun-hidden for these moments/The brightness subdued in grey screen…”

The pain surfaces

“(The concrete block) has a statement to memorialize the person they loved–someone they must have lost at this place. It makes me think of my sister, who I lost in a similarly tragic way. I feel like I am standing by her grave site in Oregon where she is laid to rest. It is a crushing feeling. I think this block with its poem is a memorial in memory of the many we have loved and lost, so fitting today with my youngest son’s friend’s memorial service. … I hurt for his family. I think of all of those who lost their lives at this place. … They met their death–and their respective families absorbed a pain of deepest chill. Life goes on, but life is never the same. I think of all the people who have loved and lost–the empty arms, the broken hearts, and the sleepless nights, like the sun that is leaving me, descending with a pink intensity tonight. My heart sighs for the gargantuan losses. Some aches are never assuaged, never satisfied, never, never, never. … Sometimes when we lose someone, life is not and cannot ever be the same. It is because no one can take their place, fill their shoes, or make the world a better place as they did.

I find comfort in nature: “The shadows lengthen, proof of the earth’s rotation. The leaves on the oaks are lifting and swaying like whispers in force in a dream. It is cold, and I am wearing a jacket now. I see the Sutter Buttes mountain range in vivid blue outline. There are scattered lacy white clouds in contrast to the blue sky. The sun is getting ready to retreat behind clouds and western (coastal) mountain range. Amazing.”

 I talk with God to seek His comfort: 

Consolation: 

“I am here, dear God, to seek you, to listen. I love you–I love what I see. What do you have for me today?

Below there is a Y in the road. It is your life. Over and over again, there are hard choices, times of trouble, times of wondering, times of waiting, but they all lead somewhere. It is your business to rely on me, to grasp my intentions.

I did not think that was possible.

It is, most assuredly is. I lead slowly and act on faith and prayers, the prayers of the faithful, your prayers, my beloveds’ prayer, prayers of the humble, the righteous, the unsure, the weak, the afraid, the believing…” 

   Things of nature bring rich contemplations: 

“I drove past a field of mustard out in yellow bloom. I thought of the biblical saying, ‘The faith of a mustard seed can move mountains.’ I have always thought about that as the ultimate in faith–and that we don’t have adequate or strong faith. This time I thought a new thought. What in a mustard seed has or shows faith? What is in the mustard seed’s life, in its cycle, that should grab our attention?…The seed is dead, but there is life in the seed.

  

 Life comes in as I reflect on reality:  

“Sometimes I feel weak, I feel damaged by life….But it need not defeat us. More and more I am becoming convinced that God wants me, wants us, to live in ‘love’ in every situation. Loving those who have hurt us is especially difficult. It is unnatural, but then again, maybe it is love that is natural, and we’ve learned to be unloving, selfish, and independent. I believe that with God when we love others we essentially are demonstrating to the world that we love Him. In this we find an amazing concept, the more we love God the more we will have capacity to love others. 

The reflections continue: 

“I saw the new year in as always, two candles were lit on the table and three on the piano top. Their scent filled the living room and blended softly with the comforting wood stove heat.

What will the New Year bring?

More joy, more peace, More hope, more forgiveness

More love, more healing, More freedom, less anger

More promise, less suffering. Less hunger, less sadness

What will the New Year bring? It is mine, it is yours to decide.” 

God has been good to me, meeting me with His whispers of love at my Meeting Place, Lookout Point:  

 “You are my audience of One. Make the servant into the one who serves. Make a miracle of Your grade out of my life and the lives of others. It is up to You—only You. Solitude, times with You, dear God, are precious, dear, of great value.”  Amen