Kathleen Norris writes about laundry and liturgy in The Quotidian Mysteries.  This was my first exposure to her writing. Finding the sacred in the everyday, discovering communion in the common, is a life-long pursuit of mine.   Intrigued by Norris,  I went on to read The Cloister Walk. 

Norris wrote this book during a residence at St. John’s Abbey, a Benedictine monastery. Since the book follows the liturgical year,  I read the short chapters slowly, correlating my reading to the liturgical calendar.  I found The Cloister Walk a welcome companion to my medieval studies.  After reading the Rule of St. Benedict, it was fitting to read how the living by the Rule fleshes out today.  Norris references many of the works I have studied; she quotes many of the lights of the early and medieval church.

Restricting your reading and studies to people with whom you agree often leads to tedium.  On one level it is warm and comfortable, but you end up feeling cramped and stoved up because your mental muscles aren’t being stretched.  I appreciate reading authors outside of my worldview, outside my theology, outside of my chronology, and outside of my culture.  Interacting with different frameworks provokes me to think; it challenges me and keeps me alert.   

In the past I have described Norris as very L’English.  By that, I mean that reading Kathleen Norris is very similar to reading Madeleine L’Engle.  They are both articulate poets.  There is a considerable bit I disagree with when I read both authors.  However, after I have skipped over or disregarded that which I would describe as stubble, I discover chunks of gold.  Here are some nuggets I’ve been examining: