New Skete Monasteries News

By Brother Thomas Throughout my childhood, in the back of my parents’ cedar-lined closet and resting on the floor, was a shoebox. Inside were photos that, for a variety of reasons, had yet to make it into the sleeves of an album and to be labeled accordingly. And among this loose stack of images was a single Polaroid of a dark-haired man standing among a small crowd, all in their mid-twenties. It is from this man that I was given my name at birth, and we have only a single photo of him; there aren’t more because soon after this gathering, he was struck by a car while driving home from a parish event. I didn’t find this photo, or become aware of it, until late in my childhood. Until then, I would often wonder how my name, John Wesley, came about. Walking past our town’s Methodist church each Sunday, I often fantasized that perhaps I carried the namesake of that Anglican cleric and Reformer. Or maybe, having a father who taught English Literature and being a product of the Gothic South, ...

by Brother Luke Recently my iPod seemed to die, and I thought, Oh no, I (well, actually Ida) won’t be able to put my dog videos and photos on Facebook anymore!  But it turned out that the iPod battery was dead and it was possible to revive it. So, we were back in business. And it was a very busy time when the iPod went down. Bora had a litter of seven puppies, and then my Jaci was due to have a litter, which came one week later. I always try to capture with the iPod some of the scenes from the whelping. The primary reason for that is to keep our vet and breeding staff abreast of what is going on in case an emergency arises. But it also opens to our friends a little window into the wonder of the moment of birth for the new puppies and for me! Still, a lot goes on that is not captured by the photos. So, this is a little journey into the day, or rather the night, my Jaci gave birth to her puppies. It was Tuesday, December 13, 2016. We usually have the expectant mother x-ray...

by Brother Gregory In the monastic tradition, hospitality is a very important part of a community’s practice. At New Skete, our Rule addresses this: “Monastic tradition has always emphasized the importance of welcoming others as Christ. In a world rife with religious division and misunderstanding, we endeavor to foster unity and understanding within the Body of Christ, and without discrimination, tolerance and respect towards all.”  We do all we can to welcome others into our community as if we were welcoming Christ himself. With a nonjudgmental attitude, an open ear, and a welcoming heart, guests have often said that they feel welcomed. This time away from their daily routines helps them refresh and renew their souls and connect once again with Jesus and the Church in their lives.   Often when guests depart, they comment to us that they have received so much and that they felt blessed in our home. New relationships develop or are renewed, quiet and prayerful space ...

Despite the sooty name, Black Mountain, the climb to its top was anything but, it being swathed in orange and yellow and several shades of red. It looms above the central stretch of Lake George, imperiously lodged on the eastern shore, the backbone dividing Saint-Sacrament from Lake Champlain. The former flows into the latter and thence to the St. Lawrence and out to sea. From the more populous western shore it may seem a raven-hued silhouette before the sun clears its peak. In the latter half of the 1800s this “Queen of Lakes” was all the rage, the steep forests that gird the waters we plundered, giving up their hardwoods for the charcoal forges to springboard America’s industrial age One Cyrus Butler bought the steamboat Minne Ha Ha and erected the Ur-Adirondack Lodge, at Black Mountain point, a choice destination. With ready money from his iron works just miles north at Ticonderoga, where the two lakes copulate, he cowed the mighty ...

By Brother John      First , I wi ll s l ow l y and painfully l earn how to pray, but it won't come overnight— maybe not until I am almost dead! I must stop worrying that I cannot s ustain prayer for any l ength of time. I must do my be s t , or am I more interested in pleasing my s elf rather than God? The God of prayer is f a r more important the prayer of God , ju s t a s he is far more interested in me who prays than in the prayers I recite. I must be patient— Rome wa s n't built in a day . My bu sines s i s to manifest my good will by being ready for prayer, somewhat like   a dog who is content to s it at the master's feet. I f the master decides to pl ay with him , attend to him , fine. I f he doesn't , the pup remains in that place. If God i s go in g to h elp me, he must be free to do a s he sees fit , not as I see f it. I will try to pra y, but if I can do no more, then I s i t there and s impl y attend to God as well I can at tha t time of da y or...

by Brother Luke Shems For those of you who check out the New Skete Facebook page, you will see from time to time videos of my dogs playing, as well as our newly born puppies entering their new world during their first eight weeks of life. After the first eight weeks they migrate outside the reach of our video radar! We bid them farewell as they head off with their new families to grow up and bond with them. Sometimes, however, we have the opportunity to cast that video radar on a puppy that is being raised here. Right now that is what is happening. A puppy has joined me and my other canine charges. And this little bundle of joy is named Shems, the Arabic word for sun. Maybe I should say this little burst of sunshine! My boy Kahn is her grandfather, so I have an extra emotional tug invested in this little pup. When this process begins, namely, raising a puppy which we hope will make it into our breeding program, we have no guarantees of the outcome. At one year of age she will ...

By Ida Williams, Director of Marketing and Communications To figure out the age of your dog, you multiply his or her age by seven.  My dog is 14 years old and this would make him 98 in human years.  His energy, attitude, and loyalty would make anyone question this mathematical equation.  Over the past six years, I have found myself trying to figure out the formula needed to determine the monastic age of the monks and nuns of New Skete.  I know the year each was born, but what is their true age?   Their energy, attitude, and loyalty* belie their birth certificates. Sister Patricia’s chronological age is 84, but what is her biological age?  She gets up early for prayers and worship, heads to the bakery to make cheesecakes, orders the ingredients for the bakery and prepares the bakery schedule, makes cheesecake deliveries, works in the gardens maintaining the flowers and fruit-bearing bushes and trees, keeps the plants in the nuns’ greenhous...