Editor's Note

February 17, 2025

I may have referred to this in a previous issue that treated of some of the stonecutters connected to the Abbey – one of my favorite Sixth Form mottos, statements left as a token of each graduating class, engraved into markers that now comprise some of the pavement of the Healey Plaza, the fountain garden near the playing fields. One stone reads: “Nothing is etched in stone.” With my philosophical background, I love a good paradox. Here is the “paradox” that this week’s issue calls to mind for me: the belonging together of change and permanency. The “plus ça change” of life. The “there’s nothing new under the sun” that keeps framing all the new stuff under the sun. Maybe this can be the “hermeneutical key” for this issue of The Current. The multitude of events related by Br. Sixtus in our first article reflect the “news” (have you ever thought of where “news” gets its name?) of our experience. The opus of John Hegnauer relates our desire for permanency and stability, our persistent etching of things into stone. Fr. Edward’s homily on Isaiah’s “Holy, holy, holy!” perhaps straddles these, speaking of the eternal God whose presence is transformative. Can anything be transformative if nothing is new? First Corinthians tells us that, in Christ, all things are made new. Maybe that is a Christian reformulation of my favorite stone, etched into Scripture. Rather than a statement of the transiency and impermanence of everything, is actually becomes a statement of hope. And so it points to a legitimate basis to punctuate it with the formula: “Thanks be to God.”

Pax,
Blake Billings

February 10, 2025

It is possible that our church could have been given the nickname, “The Octagon.” We do know of a famous “Pentagon,” originally known as the New War Department Building, in Arlington, Virginia. In the naming, its form overtook its function. Had the same fate overtaken the Oratory of Saint Gregory the Great, it may have been nicknamed for its curious shape. In fact, the octagonal shape is well-known in church histories, perhaps most famously the Florence Baptistry of St. John, Charlemagne’s Palatine Chapel in Aachen, or the San Vitale in Ravenna. Their eight-sidedness is intentionally theological. The eighth day is the day of the Covenant with Abraham. For Christians it points to its fulfillment, celebrated on the “eighth day” of Holy Week – the day of Resurrection and eternal life. As Br. Sixtus notes in his reflections on the baptismal font, octagonality is appropriate to elicit the life of the baptized, life eternal, on earth as it is in heaven. Some claim this is reflected in the infinity symbol of mathematics, as an eight on its side – introduced to mathematical symbology (apparently without clear explanation) by John Wallis in 1655. In any case, the octagon is firmly linked to the meaning of baptism. In this issue, we also see in Fr. Gregory Havill’s homilette something of the mission and the hope of the baptized. And we see in Prior Gregory Borgstedt’s war-tine article some of what is at stake for the church. So, perhaps an octagonal symmetry runs through these articles, a thread of eternity, reminding us of the font and the fulfillment of our faith.

Pax,
Blake Billings

February 4, 2025

This week our stories highlight an important friendship that has been developing at Portsmouth over the past decades. Br. Sixtus updates us on some of the Manquehue presence this winter, and Abbot Michael relates some of his own experience with the Movement. We again are host to a group of young men from the Chilean Manquehue Movement, hearing from one of its members of his life of faith. From a Confirmation group taught near the mountain named “Manquehue” in Santiago, José Manuel Eguiguren’s fellowship and mission grew into a vibrant group of schools centered around a core Benedictine community shaped by the Rule of St. Benedict, and his personal relationships with Benedictines grew into an association of communities, linking Manquehue with the English Benedictine Congregation. My own contact with Manquehue reaches back to 2010 and includes helping host many of our visiting groups at Portsmouth, making several trips to Chile, and having found my own spiritual life fundamentally reshaped by the practice of “lectio divina.” One of the special patrons of the Movement is St. Aelred, also significant to the Portsmouth community, and known for his reflections on friendship. Perhaps this is the best heading under which to consider Portsmouth’s relationship with the Manquehue community, a fellowship stretching from Santiago to St. Louis, to Ampleforth and Portsmouth, and back again. With St. Aelred, we are heartened to recall the words of Christ that must continue to inspire our Christian fellowship: I call you friends (John 15:15).

Pax,
Blake Billings

January 29, 2025

It has been a challenging two weeks in many ways for the monastic and School communities, particularly with the passing of Fr. Paschal Scotti. It is jarring, in light of considering new vocations to the monastery as we have planned to do for this issue, to experience the loss of one of our more vibrant and active monks. Yet the topics of this issue are perhaps also timely. The gatherings at SEEK are indeed evidence of hope that a younger generation continues to be inspired to commit their lives in faith. And the ongoing preparations of Br. Benedict Maria for the priesthood, already anticipated in his diaconate service and in his preaching, also serve as a beacon for the presence of the Spirit opening for us possibilities for the future. We are, we should remember, in the early days of a Jubilee Year of Hope, called as pilgrims along a journey illuminated by faith, inspired by service. Even when events seem to challenge and to dispirit us, especially then, perhaps we can see them as further steps in our pilgrimage. We are grateful to Brother Benedict, and to all those prepared to take up again this jubilee journey.

Pax,
Blake Billings