Of Monasticism, Jello, and Corn ...by Sr. Anna-Camille

When I began to pursue the path of religious life, I knew there would be things I would be called on to give up. And I thought I knew what they were. Of course, I hadn’t consulted with God about this so what actually happens has been a constant surprise. One of the things I was pretty sure I would be letting go of was traveling. I was sure that monasteries couldn’t afford to send me to far away places and I was also pretty sure I would be too busy. God had other plans, leavened with, as usual, God’s own sense of humor. As it turns out, my monastery can’t send me to exotic places for vacations on the beach. But I do get permission to go to conferences and colloquiums in places where there is a monastery hosting it. I long ago decided that the Benedictine rule for monastic founding was to find the middle of nowhere and build. Any monastery that finds itself in or near a large city is strictly by accident. And having said that I will also say that it has made for some beautiful monasteries in gorgeous locations.

 So, I have traveled. Traveled to states that were not on my bucket list, Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas to name a few. And always in the summer, usually August. And what has been my experience on these travels is this: I find generous, hospitable hosts, peaceful, spirit-filled accommodations and landscapes of unexpected beauty. Missouri reminded me of home in unanticipated ways, Kansas was the site of my first tornado experience (the sisters have a storm shelter in the basement complete with a ping pong table). And Arkansas? We were in the NW corner of the state, in the Ozarks. As lovely a place as I have ever seen.

When I was told I had permission to go to the Subprioress conference in Norfolk, Nebraska this August, I didn’t bat an eye. Or roll them. I said yes. The conference was going to be held at Immaculata Monastery, home of a community of Missionary Benedictine sisters. The sisters have just celebrated their 100th Jubilee. It is an old monastery, with new renovations that made staying in the retreat center part of the house pure pleasure. There was air-conditioning, comfortable beds and the ringing of bells to mark the times of prayer. There are 39 sisters there, most from the U.S. but also from the countries of Germany, Australia, Switzerland, South Korea, Brazil, Tanzania, and the Philippines. I felt at home in their Benedictine life and found the small differences between home and there gave me the joy of discovering how different communities live. And the same was true of Omaha, where I spent my first night. It is friendly, informal and they only have two baggage carousels at the airport. And there is no line at the TSA checkpoint. The first thing I saw, when I left the tunnel leading from the plane to the airport, was a Cracky McGees, promising All American food. Colorful, with a duck in sunglasses logo, I stopped and had a hot dog and soda and got ready for an adventure.

The conference itself was on Grief, both personal and communal. The presentations were thoughtful and enlightening, there was deep and honest sharing in the discussions and an overall sense of communion and connection. I have found that I always leave gatherings of Benedictines with a deeper sense of rootedness and gratitude for this life I have been called to. I also find that when I am away, I have more time for prayer and Lectio Divina. There was a quiet and stillness in my room that gave me an even deeper sense of God’s presence and care. And in praying the Hours with the community, I felt a kinship and bond in our shared Benedictine life.

Some Subprioresses attended via Zoom

We spent a day at the sisters’ hermitage about 45 minutes from the monastery, a house far up on a back road, surrounded by cottonwood trees, with a creek running through it. On the way we stopped at what is apparently a famous chain of truck stops: Sapp Brothers, where the owner tried to sell me a wool blanket. In August. In 98 degree weather. I bought a soda loaded with ice instead.

I have to mention the food. Because the community eats in silence, those of us at the conference were given our own dining room so we could visit during meals. All our meals, breakfast, lunch, and dinner were prepared and served by 3 of their oblates. These gracious women came every day with things they had cooked and baked, set the tables, served and did the cleaning up. And always with kindness and good humor. We had homemade cinnamon rolls, beef you could cut with a butter knife, fresh corn brought in that morning from the farm, homemade soups, and bread, mac and cheese, brats, berry pies and eggs, bacon and freshly made muffins and quick breads every morning for breakfast. I discovered a new salad dressing, created and sold only, as far as anyone knew, in Nebraska, called Dorothy Lynch. It was mid-western cooking done to perfection. And there was always plenty.

My roots are in the Midwest--Parker’s Prairie, Minnesota. There was only one thing missing from the feast. And on the third day of the conference, I very respectfully asked them if there was a possibility that Jello might make an appearance. The next meal there was a big bowl of red Jello with fruit cocktail in it. I was now, officially in mid-western culinary heaven.

The conference ended too quickly, but I came home much wiser and greatly enriched. I will be writing an article on the Missionary Benedictine sisters for the next newsletter. Like all Benedictine houses they have a rich history. Theirs began in Germany and now encompasses 1300 sisters in 15 countries.

One last thing: Kool-Aid was invented in Hastings, Nebraska in 1927 by Edwin Perkins.