30th Sunday in Ordinary Time--Humility
October 24, 2004
Thomas Merton was a Trappist monk who died in 1968. He is one of the most admired Catholic writers of the 20th century. His autobiography, “The Seven Story Mountain”, sold 600,000 copies in its first year and continues to be a best-seller even today, thirty-six years after his death.
I like Merton for a couple of reasons. One, like me, he was a convert to the Catholic faith. Second, I enjoy his writing style. His stuff isn’t heavy. There’s a certain amount of humor. In fact, he reminds me a little bit of Mark Twain. I guess that’s why his stuff is still popular nearly 40 years after his death. Amazon.com has books and tapes either by or about Thomas Merton.
Third, there have been several times when I’ve turned to his writings and found answers to my particular problems. Several of his books are collections of short spiritual writings and they’re very helpful.
Week before last, I went on retreat to the Trappist abbey at Gethsemani, KY. It’s the monastery where Merton lived and did most of his writing. The Trappists live according to the Rule of St. Benedict. Benedict’s rule consists of 73 chapters and is used by most monasteries, regardless of the religious order. There are some variations among the orders.
For instance, the official name of the Trappists is the Cistercian Order of the Strict Observance. The Trappists are silent a good part of the time. They’re not as strict about it as they once were, but they are limited in the times and places where they’re allowed to speak. They also don’t eat meat.
The Trappist day begins at 3:15. That’s AM; in the morning. It’s still dark. It’s the first of seven times during the day when the monks get together to chant the psalms. The second time is at 5:45. That’s also AM; still dark. There are two morning masses, one at 4:00 and the second at 6:15. This time of year, it’s still dark, even for the second mass.
Breakfast is served at 7:00. The monks have already been to the chapel three times.
There were two things that I wanted to accomplish on my retreat. One was I wanted to finish “The Seven Storey Mountain” and the other was to come up with a homily for this weekend. I realized shortly after I got to Gesthemani that I not only had an idea for the homily, I was with people who ARE the homily. The Trappist monks are a perfect example of what Jesus is telling us in today’s Gospel. “The tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’”
Chapter 7 of Benedict’s Rule is on the subject of humility. It says,
“Brothers, divine Scripture calls to us saying: Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.”
Sound familiar? It’s from today’s Gospel. It goes on,
“We descend by exaltation and ascend by humility…..If we humble our hearts the Lord will raise it to heaven. The first step of humility, then, is that a man keeps the fear of god always before his eyes…..and never forgets it.”
The Rule goes on to lay out twelve steps to humility. This is by far the longest of Benedict’s 73 rules. It takes up 7 pages while no other rule is more than 2 pages long.
Merton’s autobiography is really the story of his journey to the Catholic faith. I still haven’t finished it, but I did get to the part where he decided to become a Catholic. Merton was born in Europe, so he had visited Catholic churches as a tourist, but he had never gone to mass. He tells about his first time:
It was full not only of old ladies and broken-down gentlemen with one foot in the grave, but of men and women and children young and old—especially young: people of all classes, and all ranks on a solid foundation of workingmen and women and their families.
I found a place that I hoped would be obscure, over on one side, in the back, and went to it without genuflecting, and knelt down. As I knelt, the first thing I noticed was a young girl, very pretty too, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, kneeling straight up and praying quite seriously. I was very much impressed to see that someone who was young and beautiful could with such simplicity make prayer the real and serious and principal reason for going to church. She was clearly kneeling that way because she meant it, not in order to show off, and she was praying with an absorption which, though not the deep recollection of a saint, was serious enough to show that she was not thinking at all about the other people who were there.
What a revelation it was, to discover so many ordinary people in a place together, more conscious of God than of one another; not there to show off their hats or their clothes, but to pray, or at least to fullfill a religious obligation, not a human one. For even those who might have been there for no better ,motive than that they were obliged to be, were at least free from any of the self-conscious and human constraint which is never absent from a Protestant church where people are definitely gathered together as people, as neighbors, and always have at least half an eye for one another, if not all of both eyes.”
Many years later, after Merton had converted to Catholicism, struggled for a long time with his vocation, and become a Trappist monk, when he wrote his autobiography, he still recalled that teenage girl and her prayerful attitude. He was taken by the humility of the people around him and that helped him to decide to join the church.
I wonder if that girl ever knew what an effect she had on Merton. Did she read “The Seven Storey Mountain” and recognize herself? I doubt it. Maybe a lot of people read the book and thought he was talking about them. Who knows?
But, wouldn’t it be wonderful to think that someone actually joined the church because of our prayerful attitude; because of our humility? Or, the reverse side of the same question, wouldn’t it be horrible to think that someone was turned off by our attitude? As we come to mass, or as we go about our daily business, are we like the Pharisee, or are we more like the tax collector? Think about it. You never know who might be watching.
I’d like to close with a prayer from another of Merton’s books, Thoughts In Solitude:
My lord, my God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Thomas Merton was a Trappist monk who died in 1968. He is one of the most admired Catholic writers of the 20th century. His autobiography, “The Seven Story Mountain”, sold 600,000 copies in its first year and continues to be a best-seller even today, thirty-six years after his death.
I like Merton for a couple of reasons. One, like me, he was a convert to the Catholic faith. Second, I enjoy his writing style. His stuff isn’t heavy. There’s a certain amount of humor. In fact, he reminds me a little bit of Mark Twain. I guess that’s why his stuff is still popular nearly 40 years after his death. Amazon.com has books and tapes either by or about Thomas Merton.
Third, there have been several times when I’ve turned to his writings and found answers to my particular problems. Several of his books are collections of short spiritual writings and they’re very helpful.
Week before last, I went on retreat to the Trappist abbey at Gethsemani, KY. It’s the monastery where Merton lived and did most of his writing. The Trappists live according to the Rule of St. Benedict. Benedict’s rule consists of 73 chapters and is used by most monasteries, regardless of the religious order. There are some variations among the orders.
For instance, the official name of the Trappists is the Cistercian Order of the Strict Observance. The Trappists are silent a good part of the time. They’re not as strict about it as they once were, but they are limited in the times and places where they’re allowed to speak. They also don’t eat meat.
The Trappist day begins at 3:15. That’s AM; in the morning. It’s still dark. It’s the first of seven times during the day when the monks get together to chant the psalms. The second time is at 5:45. That’s also AM; still dark. There are two morning masses, one at 4:00 and the second at 6:15. This time of year, it’s still dark, even for the second mass.
Breakfast is served at 7:00. The monks have already been to the chapel three times.
There were two things that I wanted to accomplish on my retreat. One was I wanted to finish “The Seven Storey Mountain” and the other was to come up with a homily for this weekend. I realized shortly after I got to Gesthemani that I not only had an idea for the homily, I was with people who ARE the homily. The Trappist monks are a perfect example of what Jesus is telling us in today’s Gospel. “The tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God, be merciful to me a sinner.’”
Chapter 7 of Benedict’s Rule is on the subject of humility. It says,
“Brothers, divine Scripture calls to us saying: Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.”
Sound familiar? It’s from today’s Gospel. It goes on,
“We descend by exaltation and ascend by humility…..If we humble our hearts the Lord will raise it to heaven. The first step of humility, then, is that a man keeps the fear of god always before his eyes…..and never forgets it.”
The Rule goes on to lay out twelve steps to humility. This is by far the longest of Benedict’s 73 rules. It takes up 7 pages while no other rule is more than 2 pages long.
Merton’s autobiography is really the story of his journey to the Catholic faith. I still haven’t finished it, but I did get to the part where he decided to become a Catholic. Merton was born in Europe, so he had visited Catholic churches as a tourist, but he had never gone to mass. He tells about his first time:
It was full not only of old ladies and broken-down gentlemen with one foot in the grave, but of men and women and children young and old—especially young: people of all classes, and all ranks on a solid foundation of workingmen and women and their families.
I found a place that I hoped would be obscure, over on one side, in the back, and went to it without genuflecting, and knelt down. As I knelt, the first thing I noticed was a young girl, very pretty too, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, kneeling straight up and praying quite seriously. I was very much impressed to see that someone who was young and beautiful could with such simplicity make prayer the real and serious and principal reason for going to church. She was clearly kneeling that way because she meant it, not in order to show off, and she was praying with an absorption which, though not the deep recollection of a saint, was serious enough to show that she was not thinking at all about the other people who were there.
What a revelation it was, to discover so many ordinary people in a place together, more conscious of God than of one another; not there to show off their hats or their clothes, but to pray, or at least to fullfill a religious obligation, not a human one. For even those who might have been there for no better ,motive than that they were obliged to be, were at least free from any of the self-conscious and human constraint which is never absent from a Protestant church where people are definitely gathered together as people, as neighbors, and always have at least half an eye for one another, if not all of both eyes.”
Many years later, after Merton had converted to Catholicism, struggled for a long time with his vocation, and become a Trappist monk, when he wrote his autobiography, he still recalled that teenage girl and her prayerful attitude. He was taken by the humility of the people around him and that helped him to decide to join the church.
I wonder if that girl ever knew what an effect she had on Merton. Did she read “The Seven Storey Mountain” and recognize herself? I doubt it. Maybe a lot of people read the book and thought he was talking about them. Who knows?
But, wouldn’t it be wonderful to think that someone actually joined the church because of our prayerful attitude; because of our humility? Or, the reverse side of the same question, wouldn’t it be horrible to think that someone was turned off by our attitude? As we come to mass, or as we go about our daily business, are we like the Pharisee, or are we more like the tax collector? Think about it. You never know who might be watching.
I’d like to close with a prayer from another of Merton’s books, Thoughts In Solitude:
My lord, my God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
posted by Mike at 7:43 PM
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