"Plus potuit quia plus amavit./ She was able to do more because she loved more"

The holy sacrifice of the Mass and the Divine Office are the two public prayers of the Church. They exist in complement to each other. The Divine Office is the hidden half of the Church’s public prayer. It is Mary mulling over the words of her lost child in light of the ancient praises of her fathers.

The holy sacrifice of the Mass and the Divine Office are the two public prayers of the Church. They exist in complement to each other. The Divine Office is the hidden half of the Church’s public prayer. It is Mary mulling over the words of her lost child in light of the ancient praises of her fathers.

In the course of our journey through the seven ages, Mother Lucia proved herself an able and wise guide, drawing upon human sensitivity, monastic depth and a profoundly moving insight into the beauty and necessary suffering on the path to becoming the mature, free and loving persons we are called by God to be.

In toil, rest
in heat, cooling
In weeping, solace.

The story of the Founding of Regina Laudis is the story of a community created out of war—yet, we know that in Christ, creation is on-going. We are constantly founding and re-founding our community, constantly contending with the principalities and powers of our time.

Through the past year we’ve seen that in a certain way, the world, and particularly our own nation, is at war—at war with a virus and the various responses of care and of indifference to the virus—Again and again in the past months here in this nation we have witnessed casual murder—committed right before the eyes of the entire world. Here in this country our streets are in flames, and our nation is polarized to a degree almost reminiscent of civil war. In this time of lockdown we take our place in the line of Lady Abbess’ vision from her own place of lockdown in 1944, and we participate in the on-going creation story of this community, to redeem—we could say “flip”—the narrative of casual indifference, violence and murder of our time, that has been our burden and privilege to witness.

Alas, mother, font of love.
Make me feel the force of your grief
That with you I may mourn;
Make my heart burn
In loving Christ our God,
That to Him I may be pleasing.

It will surely come as no surprise to hear that due to delays caused by Covid-19, we will not be able to fulfill our projected completion date of July 2020 for Phase III of New Horizons. At this point it is impossible to say what would be a realistic completion date, so we are not going to try. But we want to assure all of you who have so faithfully supported us and contributed to this endeavor, that we are going forward and ever so slowly continuing to make progress in every way we can.

Mother Telchilde's grant proposal: Sustaining Dutch Belted Dairy breed in New England
Since 1991 we at the Abbey of Regina Laudis have been devoted to the preservation and conservation of heritage breeds of cattle, particularly the Dutch Belted and now the Milking Shorthorn. We began raising Dutch Belts when we received our first pair of oxen. As we moved toward a more sustainable grass based system, we realized that the Dutch Belts' qualities were just right for our small-scale, hand milking operation.

Over the years Dutch Belted cattle from the Abbey herd (or their descendants) have gone to a number of farms in CT, NH, MA, VT, and TN. The goal of this project is to provide continuity and genetic diversity to the Dutch Belt breed in New England and at our farm through the purchase of Bestyet semen. There are classic sires as well as new young sires now available from Bestyet Farms and purchase of semen would offer the possibility of maximizing genetic material available.

There was no feeling quite so validating as when Mother Dorcas peeked into the bowl, eyes bright, and exclaimed, 'What a good dough!' She declared it good, just as God saw that it was very good to breathe life into dust. Bread has a special kinship, too, with God’s reminder after Adam and Eve’s fall: 'You are dust, and to dust you shall return.' In the same breath, he declares, 'By the sweat of your brow you will eat bread.'

Monastic communities, rooted in different lands, traditions, and environments have endured for centuries and still live today. In the Rule of Saint Benedict, set forth in the 6th century, we see that St. Benedict makes provision for the life of diverse communities of men, or women, living under a single Rule. The members of the community live, work, and worship together, receiving guests, caring for the sick, educating the young, and practicing all the works necessary to maintain a well-rounded life of stability and culture on the land. It is well known that throughout history the monastic orders were largely responsible for the preservation of the literature of the ancient world, and to them is also credited the agricultural restoration of Europe. All of the elements necessary for the sustenance of the community were necessarily found within the resources of the monastery. Accordingly, the monks were also known for developing specialized arts such as wine and beer making, cheese making, and for many technological advances in fields such as architecture and engineering.

Today we might ask ourselves why are we drawn to the craftsmanship of the contemporary Monastics? In order to explore that question, we must again look into monastic life and traditions. Under the Benedictine motto of “Ora et Labora” (prayer and work), both the spiritual and the physical sides of the life of the person are honored. “The sides of the ladder (of humility) are body and soul” (ch 7). It is from this dynamic relationship between body and soul that the true drive for monastic crafts and artisanship arises.

Craftsmen were indispensable to the life of the community. Their importance is underscored by the fact that St. Benedict devoted a whole chapter of the Rule to them (ch 57) and admonished them to remain humble despite their giftedness. If anyone could not remain humble, he or she would be removed from the work. In order to sustain the physical life of the community, the monastics were impelled to utilize the raw materials of the environment that were opened to them through their work in agriculture, and land restoration and reclamation. Leather was needed for shoes, wool for garments, skins used for vellum, stones for building, beeswax for candles and clay and metal for vessels. The physical life of the community was the workshop in which the crafts were learned, practiced, and professionally perfected. But for the monks, there is also a deeper motivation. Every monastic person lives with the words “Ut in Omnibus Glorificetur Dei” (“That in all things God may be glorified”) burning in his or her heart. It is the monastic artists and craftsmen whose hands fashion a vital link between creation herself and our human religious longing to lift up or transform the elements of creation to assist us in our participation in the life of God on the earth. In ch 31 of the Rule, Saint Benedict also reminds the cellarer, and by extension, all the monks, that all the tools of the monastery are to be treated as sacred vessels of the altar, and when we consider this in terms of the work of the craftsmen, we can see how organic this relationship is.

But it is the rich liturgical life of the monastery that evokes the greatest creative fertility on the part of the craftsmen. There is no lack of feastdays, ceremonies, and processions in any monastery. Leather needed now for not only shoes but for liturgical books, wool and flax for vestments and cowls, precious metals, ceramics and wax for the adornment of the altar and the celebration of the liturgy. Stone and wood used for housing and stables is raised and shaped for churches and chapels and chapter rooms. It is this possibility of participation in the elevation of creation that attracts lay artists and craftsmen to collaborate with monastic craftsmen. And in fulfilling our mission to restore and elevate creation, we ourselves are also elevated.

I awake in the middle of the night, as I do most nights here, with muscles complaining about the hundreds of hay bales I loaded into a barn the day before. It is half past 2AM. The Guest House at the Abbey of Regina Laudis is black and silent, but some 800 meters away in the chapel, an assembly of nuns is awake and keeping watch with the sanctuary lamp. It is the hour of Matins. By the time I rise at 8:00, the flowers have been watered, the cows milked, the sheep sent to pasture, the cat found and fed, the grapevines inspected, and the bread dough set out to rise. I gulp a cup of Folgers and hike up the hill to the Church of Jesu Fili Mariae for Mass. A bell rings, and from behind the wrought iron grille, the nuns process into the sanctuary, bowing to the altar and to one another before taking their places in the choir stalls. Mother Abbess intones the prayer: Deus, in adjutorium meum intende. The …

Tiny Tim couldn't run like a 145 hp tractor, but he didn't need to because his Father was the horse that carried him home, and the love between him and his family provided warmth enough to heat their house and even melt the frozen heart of Ebenezer Scrooge. By jumping in with both feet into the complexities of a Benedictine Monastery and a monastic farm in particular, you Tim, have shared with us your love, by giving us this tractor which you have paid for through the years of your lifeʼs hard work.

It’s Christmastime again, and I feel the longing most acutely now. At the abbey, even the smallest act is considered an act of devotion, so that every dish washed or loaf of bread baked takes on heightened importance. I couldn’t have understood this as a kid, arguing with the parish priest. But I see it now. There is something powerful about being in the presence of faith when you yourself are doubting.

For us, we find God through a very specific area that we call an elemental,' she notes. 'For me, it happens to be cheese. For others it’s honey, candles, bees or music where you really see God in creation.

The Chord of Longing: My Life as Atheist, Marxist, Mother, Nun...
explores a musical scholar’s search for meaning, love, and acceptance through decades as a single mother, a Marxist, a musician, and finally, a member of a monastic community. In frank and honest language, Mother Felicitas explains how that long search led her through extraordinary pain and difficulty, profound questioning, and finally toward everlasting and perfect love. The title is based on a chord of yearning—the famous chord that begins Wagner’s opera, Tristan and Isolde. Writes the author: 'This chord’s dissonance, this tension, demands to be resolved.' It is the perfect metaphor to describe her own quest for resolution, beautifully described in this personal tale of tribulation and transcendence.

Be gracious, O Lord God, to our prayers and bless this vehicle, Joseph, with Thy right hand. Send Thy holy angels to accompany it that they may keep from all evils those who ride in it; and as once Thou didst grant faith and grace through Thy deacon Philip to the Ethiopian riding in his chariot and reading the word of God, so now show the way of salvation to Thy servants that, always given to good works, they attain to everlasting joys after the vicissitudes of the journey and of this life. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Mother Noella on the Science and Spirituality of Cheesemaking
In this web exclusive, Mother Noella, a Benedictine Nun of the Abbey of Regina Laudis, talks with correspondent Mo Rocca about enzymes—the catalyst in the traditional cheesemaking process—and how they relate to the spiritual. You can, she says, find the universe in a microbe.

'Saint Benedict set a standard that has made Benedictines environmentally conscious from the beginning of their history,' explained Sister Augusta. 'If we look back on the first monasteries, the monks were tied to the land for survival, so they tended the land as they tended their faith. Mother Benedict continued this tradition when she planted the first vegetable garden at the abbey...'

The cloistered Benedictine nuns at the Abbey of Regina Laudis, while small in number, have created a thriving sustainable farming operation with their strong foundation in stewardship and faith in God. Like the unique and self-reliant Belted Galloway herd that grazes on the pastures of the abbey land, the sisters at the abbey have been pointed in the right direction and have proven they can survive and thrive on the land.

You always know when a person knows. And that’s why each one of you is here today because I have known you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for making the presence of God's people so clear to us in the Community. Because what we must do, all of us together, is to stand erect in this world that has forgotten what real love is about. And if we can stand together in that mystery, we can do more to help our people than anything in the world, because our union is what they want, what the world does want, and what they fear cannot happen. So thank you for being the absolute presence of the mystery and I hope you have a great day!

Explored through the lenses of the four natural elements—fire, water, air and earth—COOKED is an enlightening and compelling look at the evolution of what food means to us through the history of food preparation and its universal ability to connect us. Highlighting our primal human need to cook, the series urges a return to the kitchen to reclaim our lost traditions and to forge a deeper, more meaningful connection to the ingredients and cooking techniques that we use to nourish ourselves.

This resonant, lyrical novel is the story of the relationship between Benny Finn, a Vietnam veteran struggling to find his place in the world, and Sister Clare, a young Benedictine nun facing her First Vows. As Benny and Sister Clare come to know each other at an Abbey in New Hampshire over the course of one summer, 1974, they open themselves, with courage, to the grace and surprise of love's many forms.

Like Annie Dillard, Chessman plumbs the mysteries of the spirit and celebrates the quiet grace notes of the earth. The Beauty of Ordinary Things is deep as a prayer, a meditation on two people seeking their right place in the world. The book speaks softly, but oh how it lingers in the mind. I can't praise it enough. — Debra Dean, author of The Madonnas of Leningrad