A Day in the Life of the General Chapter Brothers

Daily Routine

Holy Mass and morning prayers begin at 7:30 a.m. This is followed by a quick breakfast, coffee, and then meetings from 9:30 a.m. to 1 p.m., with a short break in the middle. Afterwards, there is lunch and a moment to relax—many of the brothers stay in the priory, drinking coffee and engaging in casual conversation.

At 3:00 p.m., another round of meetings, conversations, and discussions begins, ending with vespers at 6:30 p.m. After communal prayer, there is dinner, which usually concludes the official schedule for the day. Usually, that is, because sometimes after 8:00 p.m. the brothers have another meeting, communal prayer, or a visit to some place planned.

Those who have more energy can still be found in the priory garden in the evening, talking to each other or trying to deal with matters that require a quick response over the phone. One of the brothers once joked that he warmly appreciates flying because there is no cell phone reception on board, and thus he has time for himself.

This is what most days look like, from Monday to Saturday. Only Sundays tend to be quieter, although this is not always the case.

Spiritual Reflection

Today, inspired by the sermon, I thought it would be worth describing a day in the life of the brothers at the Chapter. Perhaps this will help some readers—including brothers from different provinces—to better understand what their superiors do when they are away from the country.

The preacher, Brother Modestus Jideofor Ngwu, focused his homily on the figure of John the Baptist and the need to be ready for martyrdom.

He said that when he mentioned to someone that he was going to the General Chapter in Poland, he heard in response: “That must be a wonderful experience!” He was surprised, because how can one speak of joy when the days are filled with meetings from morning to evening? He thanked the brothers for their dedication, adding that he had not realized before how difficult and demanding this time is. He asked rhetorically: how can one derive pleasure from carrying the burdens and concerns of so many people?

And yet, despite everything—as I have written many times—as a chronicler, I see them laughing, immersed in conversation, their eyes full of hope.

Perhaps carrying other people’s burdens is not a pleasure, but, as one of my former provincials once said, this function is a kind of pastoral care. Only you are not looking after students, but brothers. And it is good to see your brothers grow—in faith and in humanity—even though sometimes you probably have to lose your head for them.