As you might have read in the last story, I made a wrong turn as I drove away from the little town of Chama, New Mexico.  I was on my way back to the Monastery in Abiquiu after a great, scenic trip around Colorado (where I fell in love with the view of the Rockies.) Still I was able to get on Highway 84 - headed in the RIGHT direction - and made it to the Monastery of Christ in the Desert in the afternoon of Thursday, March 21st.

I was pleased to find that the Forest Service Road # 151 - which had been 13 miles of rough, rutted, muddy trail from the highway to the monastery - had been graded the day before.  Even the section that is on the monastery property had been smoothed out.  If you'd like to see more pictures of the monastery or if you missed the story of my being at the monastery at the beginning of Lent, you can get there by clicking on the link below.

During my time at the monastery for Holy Week and Easter I tried to be sensitive to the prayerfulness of the moment and therefore didn't want to be running around snapping photographs in what might have been seen as disruptive. I was just so happy to be able to participate in these most holy celebrations of the Church year without having to orchestrate them, as I have done for so many years in the past.  I did, however, manage to get a few pictures of the liturgies of Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Once again the monks did a great job of keeping the liturgies simply beautiful.  The Palm Sunday Celebration began in the courtyard of the Cloister, around the fountain which was still frozen.  On Holy Thursday the liturgy included the "Mandatum" and the Abbot would have ordinarily washed the feet of everyone in the community. However, since he had just gotten up from a sick bed, he only washed the feet of those in the first circle of chairs.

On Good Friday the liturgy incorporated local, southwestern traditions reflecting the Spanish and Native American influences of groups such as the "penitenties."  After the solemn singing of the Passion we all processed out of the church for the 'Stations of the Cross' led by one of the nuns carrying a simple crucifix.  We went around behind the church and started up the steep hill along a narrow path where the stations were marked.  When we arrived at the second station there was a large wooden cross which was then picked up and carried the rest of the way by various participants.

In between each of the stations we sang the refrain, "This is the wood of the cross on which hung the savior of the world" so that our "Way of the Cross" also became the "Unveiling of the Cross" and, when we got to the top, our "Veneration of the Cross." When we arrived at the XI station, "Jesus is nailed to the Cross," the Abbot took the Crucifix, which had been leading our procession, and actually nailed to the larger cross.  He used large spikes and a heavy mallet and the sound reverberated off the walls of the canyon.  Very dramatic!  Then the cross was set upright and the Abbot was handed a regular, old fashioned kerosene lantern, which had also been carried up the hill by one of the monks.  He placed it on the arm of the cross and then extinguished the flame, "The XII station, Jesus dies on the Cross."

We did not do the last two stations but ended here as each person came forward to make a personal "veneration" of the Cross.  On the way back to the Church the antiphon, "Hgios Theos (Greek), Sanctus Deus (Latin) Hgios ischyros!" was sung by the choir.  "Holy God! Holy Strong One! ... Have mercy on us!"  Everybody went back down the hill and returned to the Church for the conclusion of the Liturgy - the reception of Holy Communion.

I had to set my alarm for 3 AM in order to be ready for the "Easter Vigil" which began at 4 o'clock.  As I walked from my motor home into the monastery I looked up to the hill where we had been on Friday and saw, as the Abbot had predicted, that the flame of the lantern which hung on the arm of the cross was now burning brightly.  Another nice symbol that nobody claimed responsibility for.

The Vigil Liturgy lasted two and a half hours and the church was packed which meant that many folks who came, either from Santa Fe or Albuquerque, began their travel before 2 AM.  That's dedication and determination to participate in the liturgies of the Church.  The Easter Sunday morning Liturgy had a special sparkle to it due, in part I'm sure, to the fact that I had worked with Brother Jude to wash the windows - inside and out - earlier in the week.  Bro. Jude did the high parts and left me to do the lower sections which meant that I stood on the little, two-foot wide ledge 15' above the floor.  At either end of the ledge it narrowed down even more and when Bro. Jude asked, "Daniel, can't you reach that one pane over at the edge where I can see a little spot?" I had to squeeze myself hard against the windows and keep my eyes straight ahead lest I got dizzy and fell.  Still I was happy to have made the church look clean and bright for Easter.

The Abbot, who wears a miter and carries a crosier just like a bishop, presided at the Easter Morning Liturgy.  The monks and nuns always wear a white "cowl" for the liturgies which covers their black Benedictine habits.

I left the monastery on Easter Monday and made it to Tempe, Arizona where I had an informal re-union of some friends from my 1970's days in campus ministry at Arizona State University Newman Center.  Friends from thirty years back came together for Mass and a simple bar-b-que and pot luck.

Once again, I was more interested in visiting with old friends as apposed to spending my time taking photographs, so these are just some of those who were there.

In the photo below, Fr. Cassian Lewinski - far right, Dominican Newman Chaplain, visits with Jack Evans, ASU English professor and his wife, Rosemarie who is a very talented artist.  With their backs to the camera, Phil Leonard, ASU Math professor and his wive Mary who is in pastoral care ministry and spiritual direction.

Mary Evans, (far right in the picture below) who turned 81 the day before this gathering, held the record for being associated with the ASU Newman Center the longest. She was a prominent figure at the Newman Center for students going back more than forty years.  Jeff McWherter and his wife Mary (back to the camera) visit with her.  Bill and Mary Jeans can be seen in the background.

From Tempe, Arizona I made a quick loop down to Calixico, California in order to visit our Dominicans in Mexicalli.  I left the motor home on the US side and the friars came and picked me up.  I also visited our Dominicans in San Diego and had a chance to stop for lunch at the Newman Center at Riverside on my way to Yosemite.  I am embarrassed to say that this native Californian had never been to this natural wonder in his life. I don't know how that happened but I'm glad that I finally made it.  And it was the perfect time to go: they had just had a warm spell which caused the wild flowers and trees to burst forth in spring colors and there weren't the usual crowds of visitors which can clog the paths and roads.

I found a spot at the Indian Flat RV Park about ten miles from the park entrance that was spacious and tree-lined and not crowded.  It was also next door to a motel where the bus going into the park made a regular stop. The round trip ticket was only $7.00  (admission to the park included) AND I was able to take my bicycle which gave me transportation while inside the park.

I spent three full days inside the park and took advantage of tours and walks offered by the park and the National Park Rangers.  I enjoyed an early morning bird walk and another ranger-led walk/talk on the animals of Yosemite.  I was amazed at how few visitors take advantage of these  free services.  I'm sure many visitors just drive through the park, yes, awed by the wonder of it all, but missing so much more that could give deeper meaning to what it's all about.  I'm glad that I finally made it to Yosemite and at a time that gave me opportunity to enjoy it to the fullest.

This is the first of the sections "Heading Home." In a couple of weeks I will begin the 'Final Journey' back to McKenzie Bridge to bring this wonderful sabbatical year to an end.  For the next couple of weeks, as many of you know, I will be 'house sitting' for some of my friends but should still be on the communication circuit so keep in touch.

Writing from St. Albert's Priory - the Dominican House of Studies - in Oakland, California the week of April 28, 2002, it's Brother Daniel - flying high above the road towards the end of the sabbatical journey of a lifetime.