SOMOS DE LA VID

Somos de la Vid. We are of the Vine.

I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in Me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without Me you can do nothing.
John 15:5 (NAB)

In the spirit of John 15:5, we seek to connect with people in faith, hope, and love, to share the charism of the Norbertine Community, communio, which embraces the truth that our life and faith journeys are joined, all seeking something more, something higher than ourselves - that we should be of one heart and mind on our way into God.

Our work under Somos de la Vid seeks to bring people together of all experiences and perspectives and to serve as a support to other ministries, initiatives, and movements that do the same with an approach of availability, openness, and love.

#somosdelavid

ART AT THE ABBEY

. . . By organizing, hosting, and facilitating art exhibitions at Santa Maria de la Vid Abbey, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we hope to accompany and inspire our local community in imagining and visioning life in abundance through a lens of diverse human experiences and perspectives.

FORMATION SUPPORT

Within a community committed to life-long ministry in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe, our office wishes to offer support to youth and young adult ministers and ministries, parishes, and other like-hearted efforts toward a common goal: to deepen our life journeys and desire to grow in and share faith . . .

ROOTED IN NEW MEXICO

. . . Over 400 years after the Roman Catholic Faith was brought to New Mexico we as Norbertines, Canons Regular of Prémontré, are planting the seeds of our ancient tradition to live a life of community, contemplation and compassionate service with the people of God in the southwestern United States . . .

By: Fr. Francis Dorff, O. Praem.

There was a famous monastery which had fallen on very hard times. Formerly its many buildings were filled with young monks and its big church resounded with the singing of the chant. But now it was deserted. People no longer came there to be nourished by prayer. A handful of old monks shuffled through the cloisters and praised their God with heavy hearts.



On the edge of the monastery woods, an old rabbi had built a little hut. He would come there from time to time to fast and pray. No one ever spoke with him, but whenever he appeared the word would be passed from monk to monk: "The rabbi walks in the woods. The rabbi walks in the woods." And, for as long as he was there, the monks would feel sustained by his prayerful presence.

One day the abbot decided to visit the rabbi and to open his heart to him. So, after the morning Eucharist, he set out through the woods. As he appreached the hut, the abbot saw the rabbi standing in the doorway, his arms outstretched in welcome. It was as though he had been waiting there for some time. The two embraced like long-lost brothers. Then they stepped back and just stood there, smiling at one another with smiles their faces could hardly contain.



After a while the rabbi motioned the abbot to enter. In the middle of the room was a wooden table with the Scriptures open on it. They sat there for a moment, in the presence of the Word. Then the rabbi began to cry. The abbot could not contain himself. He covered his face with his hands and began to cry, too. For the first time in his life, he cried his heart out. The two men sat there like lost children, filling the hut with their sobs and wetting the Word with their tears.

After the tears had ceased to flow and all was quiet again, the rabbi lifted his head. "You and your brothers are serving God with heavy hearts," he said. "You have come to ask a teaching of me. I will give you a teaching, but you can only repeat it once. After that, no one must say it aloud again."

The rabbi gazed at the abbot and said, "The Messiah is among you."

For a while, all was silent. Then the rabbi said, "Now you can go home!"

The abbot left without a word and without ever looking back.



The next morning, the abbot called his monks together in the chapter room. He told them he had received a teaching from "the rabbi who walks in the woods" and that this teaching was never again to be spoken aloud. Then he looked at each of his brothers and said, "The rabbi said that one of us is the Messiah."

The monks were startled by this teaching. "What could it mean?" they asked themselves. "Is Brother John the Messiah? Or Father Matthew? Or Brother Thomas? Am I the Messiah? What could this mean?"

They were all depply puzzled by the rabbi's teaching. But no one ever mentioned it again.



As time went by, the monks began to treat one another with a very special reverence. There was a gentle, wholehearted, human quality about them now which was hard to describe but easy to notice. They lived with one another as men who had finally found something. But they prayed the Scriptures together as men who were always looking for something. Occasional visitors found themselves deeply moved by the life of these monks. Before long, people were coming from far and wide to be nourished by the prayer life of the monks and young men were asking, once again, to live with the monks for a lifetime.



In those days, the rabbi no longer walked in the woods. His hut had falled into ruins. But, somehow or other, the old monks who had taken his teaching to heart still felt sustained by his prayerful presence... They still felt sustained by his prayerful presence...




Fr. Francis Dorff, O. Praem. (1934-2017), the author of this story, was a member of the Norbertine Community of Santa Maria de la Vid Abbey. The Norbertines are priests and brothers dedicated to living "The Rabbi's Gift" and sharing it with the people whom they meet and serve in their ministry in New Mexico.

"Live together in harmony, being of one mind and one heart on the way to God." --From the Rule of Saint Augustine