50 – The liturgy having thus ended, the brothers leave the church in silence. With a winning glance brother Giovanni asks me, “Would you like to come to lunch with us?”
Dash it! Magnificent! Just what I hoped for, but didn’t dare to ask! My reply is more restrained than are my thoughts. “Well, if I won’t disturb too much, it will really be a pleasure.”
The brother continues his ‘lesson’ while we stroll towards the brothers’ living quarters as he says, “The monks of the Middle Ages, just as nowadays, on leaving the church after Sext went to the refectory. According to the Benedictine tradition, the refectory was always built parallel to the church, to signify a parallelism between the earthly table where the monks dined, while listening to holy reading, and the heavenly table i.e. the Mass celebrated in the church. Holy Scripture in fact, says, ‘Man does not live by bread alone, but from every word that comes forth from the mouth of God.’ (Deut. 8, 3). Actually the refectory and adjacent rooms have been transformed into our living quarters, so losing their original functions.”
Then, all at once, he changes the subject, and asks me, “By the way, did you manage to follow Sext? You seemed rather distracted.
Quite embarrassed, and somewhat irritated, I reply, “Well, to say the truth, I made an enormous effort, but I don’t understand Latin, and much less why you make all those gestures during the prayer.”
“It’s quite normal,” he replies, “one needs time to get acquainted with our liturgy; just as with a friend. It requires time to get to know him, and to get accustomed to him.”
51 – Then, taking up the previous subject of conversation where it had been interrupted, he goes on to say, “You seemed quite pleased, but also somewhat astonished by my invitation to come to lunch with us. The vocation to offer hospitality, one of the characteristics of the Premontratensien Regular Canons, exists from the times of our founder. Saint Norbert recalls three duties: towards God, by attention to the altar, towards the brother, in correcting him, and towards the guests, in offering hospitality.”
At the door of the refectory, a brother awaits us.
“This is the Prior,” brother Giovanni explains.
I feel a bit nervous.
The Prior puts out his hand to greet me, and with a big smile says, “Welcome! We are happy to have you at table with us. I hope it will prove to be a pleasant experience for you.”
52- He then takes me into the spacious refectory hall. I recall how brother Giovanni had explained that up until 1966, this hall had been a stable. What an incredible change! It is one o’clock. Before sitting down to lunch, the brothers stand bowed down, one in front of the other, as the prayer to bless the food is said. I notice that a liturgical accent is present also at lunch. No one speaks in the refectory. As the community eats in silence, a brother reads a passage in recto tono, from some edifying book, which can be either of a religious, historic, philosophic, or biographic nature, or contemporary literature. I recall the words of brother Giovanni - “not only the body must be nourished, but also the mind and the spirit”. After having finished reading, the reader will take some nourishment as well. On fast-days the brothers eat less meat, and abstain from drinking wine. I was told that a woman cooks their meals during the week.
After lunch, each brother takes his plate to the kitchen to be washed. I follow along, and do the same. The only sound to be heard is that of the water, as the plates are placed on the draining rack. I feel rather awkward, but try to help all the same.
53 – As soon as the ‘silent’ plate-washing is finished, my guide whispers, “Francesco, come here, I want to acquaint you with my community. Once lunch is over, and the dishes are washed, this is the nicest moment, because some free time remains to enjoy each other’s company, while on Sundays and holidays, friends and visitors are also invited. An opportunity is offered to speak, to joke, to exchange daily experiences and opinions as we get to know one another a bit better. If the weather permits, we take a walk, while during the winter season we get together in the hall of Saint Catherine. You are very fortunate, because today, 6th June, is the feast-day of Saint Norbert.”
We walk along the short corridor, which connects the refectory to the Saint Catherine hall. On entering, we go down a few steps. It is a bright and spacious hall with plain pieces of furniture. At the centre, there is a long wooden table. On the shelves, and other low furniture, theologic, and religious reviews lie about. On the walls photos and sculptures are displayed. It is the hall where each morning the Chapter is kept. Until some time ago, it had a less noble use; it was in fact, a cellar.
54 – In the hall, seven or eight brothers are all chatting away merrily. At first I just look on, without saying anything. I notice some friends of the community joking together in a very friendly manner with the fathers. The atmosphere is calm and relaxed. It puts me on my ease, just like being at home. And then there is no TV to ruin the conversation. Little by little I begin to realise what it means to be a ‘community’.
Almost immediately, I become aware of some brothers speaking with a foreign accent. I’m unable to place their nationality. I turn towards the religious beside me and say, “ Excuse me, but are you not Italian?” From behind his glasses he fixes me with an ironic smile, and replies,
“Well, as such, you can take your choice. I am French, Senagalese, and Italian by adoption! And you, Francesco, where are you from?”
“Well… as such, only from Parma!”
The nice priest then continues, in a more severe tone, “You see, quite a few nationalities are mixed together here; some of us are French, with Italian citizenship, one is English, or more precisely from Wales, and two are Italians. We are a European community, similar to the stylistic influences present in the church. The community and the church express the same European and international vocation. By the way, did you like the church?”
“Very much indeed,” I reply enthusiastically.
With these witticisms we begin to get to know each other, and I feel ever more at home.
55 – The atmosphere takes on quite a gay tone. Cakes and coffee are brought in, and placed on the table. I want to get to know their daily timetable. Having arrived only after the daily Mass at 9.15 a.m., I’m interested to know what other religious practices are done before that hour.
“We get up at 5.15 a.m.,” explains the brother, “to begin Matins at 5.45 a.m. This liturgical prayer consists in reciting a number of psalms in recto tono, as a base to the daily liturgy. We read the Bible in Latin, and so too the Fathers of the Church. After this, during summer as in winter, a long moment of personal meditation follows, in the silence of the church. The personal dialogue with God, and attention to the Divine Word, enriches this moment in a very particular way. Lauds is sung at 7.00 a.m. It is a pity that you were not present at this prayer of praise made by the entire Church to its creator and its Saviour. The psalm 62, which begins with Deus, deus meus es tu, ad te de luce vigilo (O God, you are my God, at dawn I search for you), unites us to the whole of creation as the morning sun explodes across the earth. It is a hymn of joy, a song of glory, by which we, tiny particles of the cosmos, love God, praise and bless His Holy Name. On returning to visit us, you should try to remain somewhat longer so as to experience personally the stirring emotions and sublime considerations inspired during this magnificent liturgy.”
The brother drinks his cup of coffee, and then adjoins, “Another moment when our prayer reaches more intensive heights of intimacy with the Saviour, is during the vigil held each week, on Saturday, roundabout midnight. During the deep silence of the night, while darkness muffles and shrouds every quiver of earthly life, the brothers sing psalms as they await the resurrection of Christ, renewed every Sunday during the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. This is no sacrifice for us, as you can well imagine, but rather, an act of love, full of joy – because - Francesco, as you know, love believes, hopes, keeps watch, and prays.” At these words, all the voices around me fade away, while the words pronounced by the brother penetrate like a subtle arrow, to touch the innermost centre of my being. Never, until this moment, had I ever been aware that the words of faith are also words of love.
The bell… ‘voice of the spouse’… is ringing once more. It is already 2.40 p.m.! How quickly the time has passed. None will begin after five minutes.