Are you a good cellarer?

By Barabara A. Schoeneberger,

Monk Feeding the Poor by Gaillet

A central figure in the life of a Benedictine monastery is the cellarer. Hmmm. What does that have to do with me? I’m not a monk or nun and what the heck is a cellarer anyway? In Chapter 31 of his holy rule, St. Benedict clearly defines what kind of man the cellarer should be, and light bulbs went on when I read this section of  a document that guided the lives of many beginning over 1600 years ago. I should care and it does have a lot to do with me and everyone else today who calls himself Christian. How?

The cellarer, called the “steward”, is the monk charged by the Abbot with the whole administration of all temporal things at the monastery. He is the one everybody must go to for food, clothing, tools, supplies, etc. Obviously, this is a person of power because he has authority over the distribution of earthly goods necessary to daily living, not unlike the head of a family today, the pastor of a parish, the boss at work, etc. In a way, most of us are cellarers because most of us have some charge of earthly goods in relation to others.

We have now leapt from the 400s into the 21^st century.

Attributes of the cellarer

As cellarer of the monastery let there be chosen from the community one who is wise, of mature character, sober, not a great eater, not haughty, not excitable, not offensive, not slow, not wasteful, but a God-fearing man who may be like a father to the whole community.

 Continue reading at Barb's blog  Suffering With Joy

Honoring God's gift of creation

By Lara

Sunset on the Plains by Bierstadt (Wikimedia Commons)

My family spent last Saturday morning on the river bank, picking up the kind of Gluppity-Glupp and Schloppity-Schlop that Dr. Seuss wrote about in his children’s book, The Lorax, which chronicles the plight of the environment.

We woke early that morning without the fanfare of green eggs and ham to participate in this city wide endeavor to involve residents in cleaning and preserving one of our natural and most precious resources – our waterways.

While no one wants to pick up someone else’s trash, no matter what fun Seussical name you call it, the day couldn’t have been more glorious. The sun fanned its rays warming the cool chill in the air, the flowers boasted spectrums of color that can’t be found in a jumbo-size box of Crayolas and the grayish-blue river pulsed peacefully and rhythmically as if the gentle breeze was singing it a lullaby.

I chose to volunteer at a section along the river walk where I routinely exercise with several dear friends. 

For years, we have walked over two large bridges that link different sides of our downtown and along the expanse of this part of the river walk.

We lose the weight of our worries on these walks as we talk about everything from dying parents to our own parental concerns for our children.  It’s not all morose; we are friends and as such delight in everything about one another from the trivial to the triumphant.

And, we do this amid the stunning backdrop of our downtown buildings that stretch to the skies, and the arches of our bridges, which stand in homage to the vast waterway that flow beneath them.


 Continue reading at Lara's blog Mercy Me! I've got work to do.