Editor's Note

- Wisdom
  
  January 23rd, 2021
  
  The theme of “Seat of Wisdom, Queen of Peace” for “The Current” this week emerged from my mind as the statue of her in our church quietly emerges from its simple background of grey stone. The earlier, more vibrant medieval coloration of the statue has faded over time, though one still catches glimpses of it in certain light. Now its statement is more muted, more humble. Remove the crown, and Our Lady could be any mother enveloped in the care of her child. It is as if she would rather blend in, unnoticed. There is an undeniable peacefulness in that statue – a wisdom in its peace, a peace in its wisdom.
  
  And what wisdom it was to discern how in our church we might find on one side of our sanctuary the Blessed Sacrament, and on the other side, the Blessed Virgin. These two speak the ineffable Wisdom of divinity in humanity, of God with us. Wisdom, in my experience, has been a hallmark of this monastic community. A prominent physicist, a genius mathematician, a concert pianist, a Buddhism specialist. A community dedicated to reading, study, culture, and the life of the intellect. These were impressions I drew from my early encounter with it as a young student. Yet a community of the Divine Office and of prayer, I also soon came to realize. And in these together, in the relationship of study and prayer, wisdom. I encountered this wisdom held a somewhat Socratic character, living a “philosophy,” a love of a wisdom not pridefully possessed, but humbly pursued. But it is also a pursuit of a wisdom that is not intellectual brilliance, but sanctity. This wisdom is lived with a more Pauline character, as sanctity not pridefully possessed, but humbly pursued. It has been a recurring source of peace for me, that as I face the altar of our church, ever carrying my dullness of mind and hardness of heart, my gaze – and my heart – are embraced on my left by Wisdom in the incarnation of divinity, and on my right by Wisdom in the fullness of grace.
  
  Pax,
  Blake Billings
- Very Near To You
  
  January 16, 2021
  
  The word is very near to you; it is in your mouth; it is in your heart.
  
  This verse was in the center of the passage I turned to during Divine Adoration this Friday. Paul, in Romans, quoting Moses. As we greet a new group from Manquehue this week, and hear from our friend Alvaro Gazmuri, I express gratitude for the MAM devotion to lectio divina, a practice emphasized in Benedict’s Rule. It has been for me a steady and strong stream of spiritual vitality, a constant grace, readily available. Saddened by events in our nation, fatigued in the ongoing depths of pandemic life, having difficulty with focus and enthusiasm, I sat before the Blessed Sacrament, and discovered this verse in lectio.
  
  What does it tell me? God is with me. I need not ascend to the skies, nor descend to the depths. This word, this scroll consumed by Ezekiel, is offered again and again in the very Host before me. In my mouth; in my heart - may I recall this verse when I next receive communion. Over the past weeks, we have heard the Christmas message of Emmanuel, the Epiphany of the meek and merciful God, the Baptismal newness ever renewed - all this that we have also just encountered these past tumultuous weeks. May we carry this, His Word, into the present environment of suffering, anger and division that might lead us to conclude that God is very far from us. Not far, very near: his word in our heart, even in our mouth. His Word: His Law, to love my enemy; His Scripture, to hear with my heart; His Body, offered on the cross and from the altar. These all express the Word that is near, the God that is with us. Very near, almost too close to see. And a powerful remedy for all in distress.
  
  Pax,
  Blake Billings
- Tempus per Annum
  
  January 10, 2021
  
  And so we trudge into what now is strangely designated as Ordinary Time. Sunday’s celebration of the Baptism of the Lord inaugurates our new “season” lacking in seasoning. But it is worthwhile to recall the significance of the “Ordinary.” This does not tell us that all is common, mundane, blase'. Rather, it implies that time is ordered by God, that it is His creation, that Time is His. Tempus per annum, it is called in Latin. Yet each annum is now designated in the Christian faith as an annum Domini. Our present moment is one of great contrast: the intense reflection on each moment, now situated within conformity to “protocols” - a word many have come to despise. Yet it is an intensity that seems suffocated in redundancy and withdrawal, a life that becomes provisional, and from which we long to return - to something more ordinary. Our tempus out of tempus, off tempo, temporary. And maybe we need to regather our focus on that prayer to be led not into “temp-tation” - that our tempus not tempt us (I know, sounds like a “festivus for the rest of us…”). One of the distinctive characteristics of our present time’s temptations: despair, despondency, defeat. So: may it be auspicious that we begin, as our seasonless season does, with a Baptism. Let us remember our own, a call to a new life, to a new time, to a year of Our Lord, an eternal year of jubilee. May this time be truly ordinary for us, God’s own, manifest in our time.
  
  Pax,
  Blake Billings
About
- Blake Billings '77, Ph.D. is a graduate and current faculty member of Portsmouth Abbey School. He received his undergraduate education at Dartmouth College in New Hampshire, then joining the Jesuit Volunteer Corps to assist in an inner-city parish in Oakland, California. From Oakland, he went to Leuven, Belgium, receiving degrees in theology and philosophy. He returned to the Abbey in 1987, teaching for three years before getting married and returning to Leuven to pursue a Ph.D. in philosophy, which he was awarded in 1995. Having taught in higher education at various schools, including St. John's University, Farifield University, and Sacred Heart University, he decided his calling was at the secondary level, gratefully returning to Portsmouth in 1996, where he has resided ever since. He became an oblate of the Portsmouth community ten years ago. His four children were all raised on campus and graduated from the school, the youngest in 2020.