by Kimberly Knowle-Zeller
An hour north of Minneapolis, where the skyscrapers have been replaced by wildflowers and glistening lakes, and the prairie grass sways in the wind, a community of prayer lives. At St. John’s Abbey, a community devoted to monastic life – the monks live, work, pray and serve together. They welcome visitors into their sacred spaces to experience a life rooted in prayer.
At the end of June, while visiting on a retreat with Stephen, I joined the monks for evening prayer. Sitting in the stillness of the sanctuary, the bell tolling, I watched the brothers enter one by one in their black robes. At their seats, they bowed their heads to the cross.
I let the soft chanting wash over me. And I also looked into the eyes of the monks: eyes that looked tired, even possibly bored, bodies that most likely came from hours of work, minds that probably pondered the tensions and events of the day. In a sense, they held the feelings and emotions of everyone else who gathered to pray this evening. But they were there. They showed up and will show up day after day, hour after hour, to pray. They were speaking the words and inviting others to join them in their prayers. And if they couldn’t find the strength to muster the words at that moment, the community around them, their brothers, were praying on their behalf.
I didn’t make it to prayer the rest of the time we were at the Abbey, but the monks never fail to show up. Isn’t that a gift? Somewhere, someone is praying for you and for the world. Someone is holding space for the aches you hold and the yearnings of your heart. Someone is pleading on your behalf for healing and wholeness.
They may be bored or tired or uncertain, but day after day they show up. And so they inspire me to keep coming to God with my fumbling prayers and my early morning yawns when I’m wrestling with writing prayers.
A few days later we visited the sisters of St. Benedict. Touring their chapel, one of the sisters pointed out a statue of a dying woman held by other sisters. “This same scene happened this morning, too. One of our sisters, in her 90’s, was surrounded by the women praying and singing around her. We prayed her to the next life.”
I wish I could sit across the table with you and ask what prayers you’re holding. What desires you have and what keeps you up at night. What I can do is hold space for you. And I can point you to the truth that our prayers never go unheard. I can remind you that someone is praying for you. And I can encourage you to come with your prayers, doubts, fears, and joys and lay it before God.
This is excerpted from the August newsletter, Walk & Talk, written by Kimberly Knowle-Zeller. You can read the entire newsletter and subscribe at https://kimberlyknowlezeller.substack.com/. Kim is co-presenting a writing workshop at the Just Love Gathering next month.