Regular readers of this know that I like and have been influenced by the writings of Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk who died in 1968. He was an interesting character who was always looking for and finding God. He wrote an amazing amount for someone his age…or any age! He was not a trained academic, but had a really bright intellect, read copiously and continued to pursue his questions in life. He was far from a perfect human being, which enamors him to so many folks.
I have been an active member of the International Thomas Merton Society, partly because I hope there are ways we can introduce Merton to new generation of people. I know in my own university, when students read him, they find him relevant and helpful in their own quest for meaning. I have been privileged to be part of a new venture within our Merton Society. We have been hosting some key people to share their “Merton experiences” with an audience well beyond our own membership.
Recently, we had the honor of hosting James Finley. Jim is a fascinating man. He is basically my age---an old guy! He is a clinical psychologist and teacher of the contemplative way. But most importantly for me and his audience that night is the fact that he spent six years at the monastery in Kentucky where Merton lived, the Abbey of Gethsemani. Finley went there fresh out of high school as an eighteen-year-old lad (they would never take someone that young now!). Merton was his spiritual advisor and guide. So he has stories.
Someday I will share some of those stories, but right now I want to share something I did not realize till that night. It never occurred to me to wonder whether Merton ever thought about or mentioned Finley. I have read fairly extensively in Merton. I have read the seven-volume journal he wrote. But it was not till that evening when my friend and Servite sister introduced Finley that she referenced a couple mentions of Finley by Merton.
In the monastery Finley had the name, Brother Finbarr. It turns out that Merton did mention him at least a couple of times. In the fifth volume of his journals, entitled, Dancing in the Water of Life, we can read these. Let me share both of them and offer some commentary. The first mention tells us that Brother Finbarr just makes his profession. That journal entry is dated February 4, 1964. Finbarr, or Finley, would have spent some time at the monastery discerning whether he wanted to say and begin the process of becoming a monk. When he decided to do it, he “professed” his commitment, etc.
A “brother” is someone who is a monk, but not ordained. In those days, brothers would have worn a different color habit (brown) as opposed to the “fathers” who wore white. But this was about to change. Merton writes, “Father Abbot got back on the first. Brother Finbarr made his profession…I was late and was in the back---in fact in the Abbot’s Matin stall, with the brothers.” (70) There was nothing special here. Brother Finbarr certainly was not featured.
Gethsemani had experienced a big wave of men after WW II wanting to be monks. It was still happening in the 60s, the crazy decade of Vietnam and much more. So Brother Finbarr was nothing special. I wonder whether it even occurred to him that he would leave the monastery in six years? I doubt it. He probably thought he was joining for life, which is the goal when one signs on for that kind of life.
We can all learn something from Brother Finbarr. We need to go where we feel called at the time. Even if we assume it is for the rest of our lives, sometimes it turns out that it was just a temporary thing. Joining monasteries is just one example of that. Marriage, college and many other things probably are similar. Human beings change, grow and develop---praise God. But changing may provoke unseen changes.
The second passage is funny. On March 15, 1964 Merton notes, “Still cloudy and rainy…Brother Finbarr who had a wisdom tooth out has been in the infirmary refectory for a couple of days. The Abbot is getting rid of Finbarr’s pigs, and our meat business is shutting down.” (91) Brother Finbarr again is all too human. He gets sick, has teeth issues and the like. And apparently, the young pig farmer is in for another change. His pigs are being sold off and his “work” as a monk was going to change.
Not only did he give up pig farming, being a monk and all the rest, Brother Finbarr---James Finley---has perhaps impacted many more people as an ex-monk than he ever would have in remote Kentucky. Given his life’s work, he has shown that one can be a contemplative beyond the walls of a contemplative monastery. And he has shown countless people who never will be monks how to live contemplatively. For that I am grateful.
So Jim, my friend---Brother Finbarr---thank you!
Those of us who have read theology or, perhaps, those who are people of faith and are old enough might well recognize this title as a reminder of the late Jewish philosopher and theologian, Martin Buber. I remember reading Buber’s book, I and Thou , when I was in college in the 1960s. It was already a famous book by then. I am not sure I fully understood it, but that would not be the last time I read it. It has been a while since I looked at the book. Buber came up in a conversation with a friend who asked if I had seen the recent article by David Brooks? I had not seen it, but when I was told about it, I knew I would quickly locate and read that piece. I very much like what Brooks decides to write about and what he contributes to societal conversation. I wish more people read him and took him seriously. ...
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