Another Advent Journal Entry
December 10, 2005
Thomas Merton died, during Advent, 37 years ago.
This seems quite fitting; not the manner and timing of his death, but that he was in no way “a man for all seasons,” but entirely an Advent advocate. His life was a profound and tragic awaiting: profound in his uncompromising insistence upon living in contemplative solitude, waiting upon God and describing the experience in a gripping and contagious way; tragic in that he, like Simeon, died as soon as he had found what he was waiting for.
As much as I have grown to esteem this modern monastic apologist, I must also increasingly wrestle with what seem to be under-developed realities (or perhaps his over-development of certain themes in his writing only makes it appear so). I look to his own self-assessment as a clue. He is acutely aware of his inability, through his personality quirks and the circumstances of being under a Trappist rule, to engage the world directly with more than just observations from a hermitage. He wishes he had the permission and efficacy to live his faith on the streets, like Dorothy Day. He reaches out too desperately for comradeship through correspondence letters that often read like fan mail. Ultimately, in spite of his own resolve, he plunges irresponsibly into the arms of a forbidden woman.
Then, rather abruptly, his abbot dies and the replacement encourages him to travel. The labor has ended and the giddiness of childbirth has begun. He eventually finds his way to Asia, and journals many epiphanies – of the beauty of the landscape, of the simplicity of the monks, but especially of his self-discovery, that he can begin a new life of activity in the world. He knows himself and his faith with such ownership that he is finally capable of intersecting with the great spiritual leaders of other religions and to be seen as a peer, a spiritual brother. He is ready to act as a mediator across eastern and western cultures, skillfully maintaining his own identity in Christ and simultaneously affirming all that is good and true in the wisdom of other beliefs. After 54 years, the waiting is over. And then, more like Kyle Lake than Kaiser Soze, he was gone.
Christ, I want to wait like Thomas Merton. But I want to live like Dorothy Day. Advent, it seems, should be just as active as it is passive. Your Kingdom come; Your will be done.
Now, if possible.
Thomas Merton died, during Advent, 37 years ago.
This seems quite fitting; not the manner and timing of his death, but that he was in no way “a man for all seasons,” but entirely an Advent advocate. His life was a profound and tragic awaiting: profound in his uncompromising insistence upon living in contemplative solitude, waiting upon God and describing the experience in a gripping and contagious way; tragic in that he, like Simeon, died as soon as he had found what he was waiting for.
As much as I have grown to esteem this modern monastic apologist, I must also increasingly wrestle with what seem to be under-developed realities (or perhaps his over-development of certain themes in his writing only makes it appear so). I look to his own self-assessment as a clue. He is acutely aware of his inability, through his personality quirks and the circumstances of being under a Trappist rule, to engage the world directly with more than just observations from a hermitage. He wishes he had the permission and efficacy to live his faith on the streets, like Dorothy Day. He reaches out too desperately for comradeship through correspondence letters that often read like fan mail. Ultimately, in spite of his own resolve, he plunges irresponsibly into the arms of a forbidden woman.
Then, rather abruptly, his abbot dies and the replacement encourages him to travel. The labor has ended and the giddiness of childbirth has begun. He eventually finds his way to Asia, and journals many epiphanies – of the beauty of the landscape, of the simplicity of the monks, but especially of his self-discovery, that he can begin a new life of activity in the world. He knows himself and his faith with such ownership that he is finally capable of intersecting with the great spiritual leaders of other religions and to be seen as a peer, a spiritual brother. He is ready to act as a mediator across eastern and western cultures, skillfully maintaining his own identity in Christ and simultaneously affirming all that is good and true in the wisdom of other beliefs. After 54 years, the waiting is over. And then, more like Kyle Lake than Kaiser Soze, he was gone.
Christ, I want to wait like Thomas Merton. But I want to live like Dorothy Day. Advent, it seems, should be just as active as it is passive. Your Kingdom come; Your will be done.
Now, if possible.
posted by gdwill at 11:11 AM
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