Once again this second morning in Vermont I walked out before dawn. Another man on the retreat joined me, and the two of us walked through the cold and dark. The light of the stars and a half moon created a wonderful soft light as we walked up the country road, woods on either side, with the gravel crunching under our feet. Once again, the sound of a bell flowed through the darkness, sounding the call to morning prayer.
The monks at whose priory we stay when on retreat sound that bell several times each day, all the year round. Whether or not outsiders come, and they usually do, these brothers of Benedict gather to sing and pray the ancient psalms and listen to the Word. Why? What might they be teaching us?
We met yesterday with two of the brothers. Our group's custom has been to determine a serious question we have about life and living, and then ask for any wisdom or insight the brothers might have. This year's question went something like this: how can I come to accept my dark side and so be more able to connect with others who may be hurting? How can my failings and imperfections actually draw me closer to others? It's a great question, and the two older brothers who gave us an hour of their time certainly rose to it. One brother (I swear he has "merry" eyes!) has always struck me as having something to say worth hearing, and he didn't disappoint this time, either.
The brother said that whenever he experienced conflict and division with his fellows, he liked to remember to go back to beginnings...... by that he meant the "why" of the relationship. He observed that each of us first experiences connection by feeling the heartbeat of our mother right in the womb -- not a word, but an experience of connection, physically felt. When he is in conflict with a brother monk, he told us he remembers the original commitment they made to each other -- to be brothers in the service of their spiritual calling. That's a beginning remembered, and helps sort things out. Not a bad standard.
What are the beginnings in my relationships? What do I need to remember? Most importantly I remember the choice of my wife (and hers of me); the choice to be a parent; my choice of profession as counselor, teacher and writer; and my choice of a spiritual path. All these beginnings remind me of what's important. If I've given my word to do or be something, that's a beginning that needs to be affirmed when life frays and sometimes tears like worn fabric.
What those Benedictine brothers stand for as they return to that chapel several times a day seems clear: connection, community and purposive commitment all matter and are worth celebrating. So it's also worth a cold morning's walk to witness and briefly join them in their way of choosing life and mending what's frayed.
No comments:
Post a Comment