On the green island of Ireland, in County Limerick, there is a Roman Catholic monastery of the Benedictine tradition called Glenstal Abbey. The monks structure their day around prayer. Usually in black robes, they come together in the Abbey Church in early morning, mid-day, early evening, and the end of the day. Mostly in Latin, they read the Psalms, and through song they offer scripture, prayer, and devotion. They also pray and study in private for large portions of the day, in addition to various work at the Abbey.

Glenstal has a dairy farm, library, formal gardens, popular guest house, and a vibrant and prestigious boarding school. I especially like the apiary and visited there in 2017 to explore the spirituality of beekeeping. Just last Sunday in worship at First Presbyterian Church we read from Psalm 19 about God’s word being “sweeter also than honey, and drippings of the honeycomb.”

I’ve walked well-worn paths on the grounds of Glenstal, along stone wall fences, across arched bridges over streams, through agricultural pastures, sports fields, rugged ravine, and rolling woodlands with massive beech, ash, and oak. The 500 acres are home to foxes and hare, along with other wildlife like large swans on the ponds.

The monks are intentional about hospitality as a practice of the Christian life. Some shared meals are in silence and others involve visiting. It was fun to meet some of the brothers and the other guests from around the world.

Back in Idaho on Pacific Time, I still visit via the internet’s church webcam. Although they have recordings, I especially like participating live. As they gather at the end of their day for evening vespers or compline night prayer, my day is beginning. At the end of their service one monk blows out the candles, and at the same time, I light candles to claim the global reach of ongoing prayer and spiritual connection.

I notice much of the formal practice of the Rule of St. Benedict is cataphatic prayer, which is a fancy word that means it involves talking, listening, imagination, or a concentrative focus of some sort. The chants, the written word of the Bible shared verbally, reciting prayers from traditional worship resources, and the church adorned with colors of the season are intended to express faith, deepen devotion, and participate in tradition that involves global and diverse unity.

My favorite part of the church webcam is at the end, with an informal practice of apophatic prayer, which involves objectless awareness through self-emptying, deep silence, and letting go. This release of structure indicates willing consent to the mystery of God’s divine Presence. Trains of thought get derailed as God’s Spirit honors the meditations of our heart.

As the monks file out of the Abbey Church, they blow out the beeswax candles, disconnect the microphone, and close the books. The main lights turn off. In the dim, empty sanctuary, one monk remains. He has white hair, sits near the front, is slouched over in his aged body, and is a consistent presence in the quiet. Though we are thousands of miles apart, we sit together in apophatic prayer and allow the unity of Christ to be in and among us. This can go on for some time, but he usually “out-sits” me. After a while, I get up to continue in my day that is now, like his, rooted in prayer, grounded in Christ’s living presence, and sustained by the Holy Spirit’s active love that holds all things together.

How do you find your quiet? In our busy world of noise, active practices, and distractions, what is it that catches your attention enough to fall into spaciousness? Pay attention to your day as we come alongside the Psalmist who also seeks that balance and says in prayer, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14).

Pastor Andy Kennaly can be reached at First Presbyterian Church, Sandpoint, www.fpcsandpoint.org. The abbey’s webcam can be found online at https://glenstal.com/abbey/webcam/ .