Recently I have been doing some background research for a
paper that I have agreed to write. The
paper offers a comparative look at my favorite monk, Thomas Merton, and the
Quaker perspective on contemplative spirituality. Certainly, Merton thought and wrote quite a
bit about contemplation. In fact, his
monastery in Kentucky is rightly called a contemplative monastery. Without going into a full explanation of
contemplation, let it simply be understood here as a way of trying to live life
in the Presence of God.
Quakers historically have not used the language of
contemplation. That meant that I would
not have know much about the topic and would probably have answered negatively,
if I had been asked whether Quakers were contemplative. Now I would say that Quakers share much of
what contemplation means without using the term or the normal contemplative
language.
I had just hit graduate school when Merton died in
1968. Hence, I never had the chance to
meet him. I have read a great deal of
his writings. During this reading, I
discovered that two different Quaker couples knew Merton, interacted briefly
with him and have a little correspondence between them and Merton. It turns out, I knew all four of these
Quakers. So when I read some of the
correspondence, I feel like I might know a little more than the typical reader.
One of the Quaker couples engaged with Merton is the
Steeres. Douglas Steere was a philosophy
professor at Haverford College, a Quaker college in the suburbs of
Philadelphia. His wife, Dorothy, was
quite a woman in her own right and was involved with Douglas in a wide range of
Quaker travel and work. They were
involved in the reconstruction work in Europe after WW II. They were involved in the ecumenical movement
in the 50s and 60s. In fact, Douglas was
an official non-Catholic observer during Vatican II.
Merton met the Steeres in February, 1962, at Gethsemani,
Merton’s monastery. They spent an hour
and half together. Douglas kept notes of
the meeting and wrote them, which I now have read. As a result of that meeting, a series of
letters went back and forth until Merton’s untimely death. It was in my re-reading of this
correspondence that I came across a phrase from Merton that jumped out at me.
By 1965, Merton was living the life of a hermit in his own
little hermitage about a mile from the monastery. Douglas had been trying to get Merton to join
him in an ecumenical gathering at a monastery in Minnesota, but Merton’s abbot
would not let him go! While this angered
Merton, he nevertheless understood if he really wanted to be a hermit, he
should not be running around the country going to meetings! So in a letter to the Steeres in January,
1966, Merton reflects on his life.
“The hermit life has been working out very well, in its own
way. For one thing I have no longer any
question whether it is the thing for me.
It is. It seems to me to be the
only kind of life in which in a twenty four hour day one can begin to have time
to get down to the real business of life.”
The real business of life! I both
wondered what Merton meant by that phrase, while thinking I probably had some
good guesses. To begin with I am sure
adding the adjective, “real,” is important to Merton.
Surely there is a huge range of things that make up the
business of life. Some are big and
others are petty. But Merton had gone to
the monastery in the early 40s to figure out what the real business of life
might be. By the late 60s in his
hermitage, he had begun to find it. One
more sentence reveals what it meant to him.
“However things do seem to be pulling together into a real simple unity,
meditation, psalms, reading, study, wood chopping, one meal at the monastery,
writing and so on.” Merton says no more
about this. And I wonder what Douglas
Steere made of that passage?
I am confident Merton would say the real business of life
has to do with taking the time to seek the Holy One. It means making myself available to the
movement of God’s Spirit. It entails
taking time to be in communion with the One who nurtures our souls and
nourishes our spirits. It does mean
finding the simplicity of life that enables us to be centered and integrated
into a meaningful life.
I am sure, like Merton, I prefer to figure out the real business
of my life. It won’t mean joining a
monastery nor moving by myself to a hermitage.
But it contains similar aims in my life.
I live in the midst of complexity, superficiality, distractions,
temptations and lures of all kinds.
Perhaps the easiest way to describe contemporary life is to say much of
it is distracted---distracted from the real business of life. But because most people are like I am, it
seems perfectly normal. Merton appears
to be the crazy one!
Thanks to Merton, I now can focus on the real business of
life.
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