Today’s first reading was also read in this
church on Saturday, January 1, 2000. I
remember it well because that was the mass at which I took my solemn vows. I remember it vividly because the lector at that mass left out the crucial last
sentence. He left out, “Here I am, send
me!”
Fast
forward 19 years, and I find myself smiling condescendingly on that young monk
who would dare make such a demand of God.
And there have been times when I questioned the wisdom of the decision I
made that day. Knowing how hard the life
of a prophet can be, why would anyone volunteer for it?
Well,
it happens that today’s Gospel reading also played a large part in my
discernment of my vocation. At a crucial
moment during my novitiate, when I was certain this monastery was not for me, I
had a very vivid daydream. This is not
in itself unusual. I spend most of my
life daydreaming. But on this occasion, I
had been reading about the call of Peter; and I imagined that I too was on the
beach that day at Gennesaret. I too was packing
up my fishing nets and tackle, when I looked up the beach, and…there was
Jesus. He was walking along the shore in
my direction. He was choosing his
apostles.
So
on he came. He was walking toward
me. As he drew closer, I could see the
determination in his eyes…and he was walking straight toward me. He came
closer. Closer. And just as he got to my boat, he stopped,
turned around, and chose THE GUY IN THE BOAT NEXT TO ME. Then walked away.
Was
this a sign that I was not called to the priesthood? Had I felt relieved, I’d say yes; But instead,
I became quite convinced of the opposite.
I rebooted the daydream and ran after Jesus calling out, “Wait! Wait! You
forgot me! Choose me! Here I am, send me!”
Now,
this has been a hard few years to be a priest—a hard few years to be a
Catholic. And…well…the last week has
been the hardest yet for the Abbey Family.
But I knew when I signed up that we might have a hard go of it. I was
told that we were likely to lose men. I was warned that the life of a Christian
was not easy, and that I would find myself on the front lines of a war for
souls. I was told that every soldier, when he comes face-to face with the enemy,
questions his decision to fight; but a good soldier knows that, for the sake of
his brothers-in-arms, he must stand his ground.
I
was sharing this with some students on Wednesday. One of them said, “The monks
may be the Green Berets of the Church…but this is like Blackhawk Down or
something.” It sure feels like
that. But you know, there were guys who
deliberately parachuted into that fight.
Knowing the odds, they deliberately put themselves in harms way. They wanted to be there. And I believe those men were heroes.
Well,
here we all are, monks, priests, and laypeople alike--in the thick of it. The pressure is unbearable, the enemy has us
surrounded, and some of us are very discouraged. Some have run away. And some have simply cracked under the
pressure of it.
But
I told my students, and I’ve told my brother monks, and I can surely speak for
many of us here today when I say: there is nowhere in the world I would rather
be right now. You all parachuted in this
Sunday, and we are grateful.
Lately,
I’ve been thinking about Winston Churchill.
Not a great theologian, and probably not a saint, but a great soul
nonetheless. A steadfast soul. A soul who, when it looked like his people
were likely to lose heart, gave a speech which steeled their resolve. And I find myself reciting his words in a new
context:
"I have nothing to offer but
blood, toil, tears and sweat…we should prepare ourselves for hard and heavy
tidings. And I have only to add that nothing which may happen in this battle
can in any way relieve us of our duty to defend the cause to which we have
vowed ourselves; nor should it destroy our confidence in our power to make our
way through disaster and through grief to the ultimate defeat of our enemy.
…And when we see the
originality of malice, the ingenuity of aggression, which our enemy displays,
we may certainly prepare ourselves for every kind of brutal and treacherous maneuver…but
at the same time, I hope, with a
steady eye.
…For even though many have fallen or may fall into the grip of the enemy
and all the odious apparatus of his rule, we shall not flag or fail. We
shall go on to the end. We shall fight with growing confidence and growing
strength…we shall defend our home, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on
the beaches, we shall fight on the landings, we shall fight in the fields and
in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.
To put it in more biblical terms, “Do not be afraid; from now on you’ll
be catching men."
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