Recently I
spoke to a group of people who are interested in Thomas Merton, the late 20th
century Trappist monk. I have referenced
Merton a number of times, so it is obvious that I like to read his
writings. As noted before, Merton lived
in a monastery, Gethsemani, in the rolling hills of Kentucky. When I teach an upper level seminar, it is
usually on Merton’s spirituality.
Although Merton died tragically in 1968, interest in him and his
spirituality continues in remarkable ways.
It is always
easy to speak to a group that is inherently interested in the topic you
address. They give you the benefit of
the doubt. Typically, they assume you
were much better than you probably were!
But that’s ok; I would rather be told good things than bad things! Most people would, I assume.
So when the
evening was finished, the Catholic nun who had invited me and had served as the
host for the event handed me a little bag.
I certainly appreciated the gesture and headed to my car. I expected there was a little something in
the bag, which expressed the group’s gratitude that I would prepare some
remarks and spend an evening sharing those.
I was happy to do it. I
appreciate small gestures. In ministry
one should never expect to be paid money and I am ok with that.
I did not
even open the bag until the next day. I
found three things inside. The first thing
I pulled out was an envelope. Clearly it
was carefully crafted. I know the nun is
an artist, so it was apparent that I was holding her handiwork. It makes Hallmark cards look store-boughten!
I opened the
handcrafted card inside only to find some money! So the joke was on me. I had been paid by a nun to come and speak
about a monk! The irony is too funny;
sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction.
The second
thing I pulled out of the bag was a lovely, small rosary. Now that is a great gift for a Quaker! Never in my life have I received a
rosary. Most Quakers would have no clue
what to do with one, if he or she were given one. No doubt, most of us would think it were a
necklace or bracelet! So again, the joke
is on me. I love it.
The third
gift was a small stack of thank you cards.
Again, my nun-artist-friend’s handiwork was evident. Each card has a drawing and some words from
Thomas Merton. These cards will be a gracious way for me to extend the
generosity of the group that allowed me to come and speak.
I began to
thumb through the little stack and stopped to pull out one card. The drawing is a bushy tree with some birds
in the top. The background is a yellowy
orange and looks like a morning sky to me.
And then I noticed the expected words of Merton. But I was pleasantly startled to see also
some words from Bernard of Clairvaux, a 12th century Cistercian, and
one of Merton’s heroes. Let me share
those words. These words from the two
powerfully spiritual men of the Christian tradition were a wonderful thank you
for what I thought would be simply an “ok” evening.
Merton’s
words say, “No writing on the solitary meditative dimension of life can say
anything that has not already been said better by wind in the pine.” Clearly, this is both a call and a reminder
that nature is a source of revelation about spiritual things. With ears to hear, we indeed can discern
nature “speaking.” This reminds me again
to pay attention. Every day as I leave
my condo, I step out into nature. Unless
it is lousy weather, I normally just take it for granted. If the weather is lousy, I become
grumpy. I want to learn to pay
attention. I desire to hear the Voice of
God in the sounds of silence.
The words of
Bernard of Clairvaux strike the same nature theme. Bernard tells us that “More things are learnt
in the woods than from books; trees and rocks will teach you things not to be
heard elsewhere.” What a powerful
message…what a beautiful thank you. The
money I received pales in comparison to the beauty of the gift. Because what the nun had done was to give me
the gift again of nature.
She reminded
me again that we are always right in the middle of it. Nature is both the womb and the crucible of
our spiritual birth and creativity. We
are always in it; we simply need to pay attention.
It sounds so
easy…and maybe it is, if we pay attention.
But the world I create for myself is more often tomb, than womb. It is deadly.
I needed a wake-up call. I
thought I was going to do something for a group. And I did.
But I got more in return. I got a
beautiful thank you!
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