November 19, 2022
The commemoration on Monday of All Souls of Portsmouth Abbey brought to mind and to heart so many of those no longer with this community, those “warrior saints” in the Church Militant. Br. Sixtus’ reference in his Bosworth lecture to Dom Luke Childs drew up still deeper memories. Father Luke had been my fourth-form teacher of Christian Doctrine. Perhaps most memorable for me was his term-end written comment, expressing his displeasure not with my classroom performance, but with my character development, noting the time he had discovered me with a friend sophomorically taunting a skunk. He had also had to respond in the school newspaper to my letter to the editor expressing my atheistic resentment at required Mass – he noted the significance of the sabbath and the weight of Church teaching on the matter. The community suffered a tragic loss with his sudden death from a cerebral hemorrhage in the summer of 1976 – he may otherwise have likely been a vibrant member of the community to this day, in his mid-eighties. Was it irony, or was it heavenly guidance, that led later to my “reversion” to faith, while still a student here? Or was it, in part, thanks to the rebuke of a good man? At graduation, I became the first recipient of the Dom Luke Childs ’57 Memorial Medal, which recognizes “intelligence, virtue, and concern for others.” I carry the sting of this irony still – amazing, ironic grace. And I still remember that rebuke, with an ever-growing gratitude.
Pax,
Blake Billings ‘77
November 12, 2022
So, we have slipped into Daylight Savings Time – or is it out of it – I can never keep it straight. Fall Back and Spring Forward. Or is it Fall Forward and Spring Back? It’s all rather disorienting. No, we are no longer in Savings Time – but who’s saving anything these days? And, ironically, congressional discussion of the whole thing has stalled. We’re all surprised about that. Ironic, seeing the discussion of time enter into a legislative eternity. Doubly ironic, in this eschatological month, when we hear more and more from the Eternal Judicial Branch. It seems we have entered Soul Savings Time. And fast. It kind of crept up on us, despite our arising from our covidic somnolence. Just when the Fall Term was going so swimmingly here, it’s about over. So is the liturgical year, almost, in just a couple of eschatological weeks. On the bright side, we’ve bought ourselves a diminishing bit of additional light in the early morning. Enjoy it while it lasts. But Vespers is now prayed in darkness. I have heard adults and students alike speaking of winter, of depression, of lamentations. Perhaps this issue’s articles on cemeteries, saints, and souls can help us to keep some of this in perspective. Let’s hope!
Pax,
Blake Billings
November 5, 2022
Our passage this past week through the great feasts of Saints and Souls is a familiar one. For me, it is always filtered through certain of the fibers of the Benedictine net. Casting this net into the sea of the spirit, one draws up quietude, prayer, death, peace. One dwells on the psalms, their sincerity, their serenity, their simplicity: cries of the heart. The season darkens, and the candles we light seem that much more illuminating. We cling to the liturgy of the hours that much more firmly, reminded that our sole hope, our soul’s hope, is in the Lord. In last week’s issue, we included Abbot Michael’s reflections on the “white martyrs” – monks. This week’s issue offers Father Paschal’s homily on “red martyrs” – in particular, the 17th century Jesuits of North America. Either way, Benedict teaches us to “keep death before our eyes.” This we continue to do, throughout this darkening month of hope. The liturgical year now chooses to remind us of eschatology, of all that is at stake. And we sing the Office of the Dead repeatedly this month. In petition, in thanks, in the hopeful celebration of the grace of a new advent.
Pax,
Blake Billings
October 29, 2022
The month of November offers us much to consider along the lines of peace. We have 11-11-11, Armistice Day, the hopeful if short-lived conclusion of one of the most destructive wars the European continent has known. This country remembers its veterans that day, those serving to help preserve a tenuous peace. We also have a series of remembrances of those we now believe and hope rest in eternal peace: All Saints and All Souls. This community adds to the list of commemorations special days for Benedictine saints, all souls of Portsmouth Abbey, relatives, patrons and friends of the English Benedictine Congregation, as well as those of this monastery. Later in the month, this nation also seeks to turn, on the fourth Thursday of this month, to a mentality of Thanksgiving, with a holiday whose sole purpose is to gather in peace and celebrate. Yet all of these days of peace, be they religious or secular, are tinged, saturated, with ambivalence, ambiguity, mixed messages and difficult histories, shaped by a humanity prone to conflict and killing. This month allows us to take stock of that history, to remember those who have died, those who still risk their lives. These considerations are nothing new to those familiar with St. Benedict, and his admonition to “keep death daily before your eyes.” Perhaps this is one of the most basic steps along the path of peace, which, in fact, Benedictines have taken as their motto. May this country, and this world, choose such a path.
Pax,
Blake Billings
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, Fairfield 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.