Simple and plain.
I was praying all alone in the church last night and noted the sanctuary decorated for Pentecost. The garden club of the parish purchased several planters of red geraniums for outside the church, and so these were used in the sanctuary until they get planted on Tuesday. I was impressed with how they were arranged and filled the sanctuary, as well as by the resourcefulness of the pastor in getting a double use out of the plants.
In the Trappist monastery I lived at, flowers were never used to decorate the altar, it just wasn’t Trappist. In the novitiate one of the brothers had a “flair” for floral arrangement. One day while we were cleaning the church, he took it upon himself to decorate the sanctuary. It was really pretty and rather lavish; ivy swags with assorted flowers, brother’s arms waving in the air - much like a maestro conducting an orchestra with great flourish - I thought it was spectacular.
When the Father Master came in and saw all of the flowers, he demanded everything be thrown out, and later explained to the novices the tradition of everything plain in Trappist monasteries. Poor brother was disconsolate. I placed my hand ever so lightly on his shoulder to console him saying, “Brother, it was beautiful, fit for a cathed…”
Brother abruptly shrugged off my hand, turned to me indignantly, and scolding me through clenched teeth said, “Don’t touch me ever again!” And he stormed off. I immediately thought of the novitiate in the Nun’s Story, when the Mistress instructed the postulants that they should never touch one another. Brother taught me that lesson with even greater drama than the movie - in fact, he was rather Joan Crawford about it. (Yes, a couple of the other brothers and I laughed pretty hard after he walked away.)
So. One of the greatest penances in monastic life are the brothers - and they are better than hair shirts to show you what you are. (When we are young, we can’t imagine anyone not liking us, but that changes as we get older.)
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