Hey! Father Theodore wrote back — and on vellum, no less! There were two little splashes of candle wax on his letter, so I think he must have written it at the end of the day.
Let me remind you of what Tina asked the brothers: —
“My question is about vocation. As one ages, there is that space between vigorous service and death. It seems as though in St. Alcuins there is such a wonderful attention to where people would best fit, where their service and their joy come together, like Conradus in the kitchen. I am wondering how to take some of the wisdom of that and apply it to my current season. Of course, I'm not in the more insular world of a monastery, so how to find that appropriate place of service and joy in the broader world at my stage of living. What principles or insights are practiced there that are applicable here?”
This is what Theodore had to say (a lot):
“Greetings from all of us at St Alcuins, dear sister. I’m sorry Brother Ignatius didn’t think to ask you more about the note you sent. It puzzled me a little, but Father William looked me out after Vespers and explained the questions were from your friend Tina rather than from you. That made more sense. What you wrote on was paper, yes? So remarkably fine. You must tell me how they make it, and how they incorporate those faint blue lines to guide the lettering. I was interested also to read your hand. A different style entirely, and a very cursive script. But, to the point.
I thought first about the difference between living within and outside the monastic enclosure. The key issue is monastic obedience of course — here we do what our abbot asks of us and that’s the end of it. A good reason to think hard when the time comes to elect a new abbot. We are blessed in Abbot John. We got it right, thanks be to God. Beyond the wall, people operate under the responsibility of choice; I think that makes it harder for your friend; it seems to me, this is at the heart of her question — how to choose when there is no direction, no one to guide? Maybe where she lives, there will be a house of women in consecrated life, and perhaps their abbess could offer counsel? She might find that helpful. If she is a married woman, and not a widow, I imagine there will be a structure imposed on her by the needs and temperament of her husband. From what she says, if she has children, they are grown — but family responsibilities, even so. These limitations to freedom help to some extent, by reducing options. To be cheerful and courteous and patient with her family, to encourage them and play her part in the common life; here already is a pattern of service, and as our strength declines with passing years, it becomes no small thing.
This circumstance dispenses with the issue of our commitment to holy chastity; but even if she is married and we are not, both we and she will live to some extent in community, it's not so different after all.
But we are vowed to holy poverty, and that simplifies so much in our lives. Nothing is complicated for us by the restless work of acquisition and choosing. Our environment is restfully plain. We eat what is set before us. Of course our cellarer has many choices to make, and our cook rarely stops thinking about food, but in each case it is a single duty not a bewildering plethora of matters to claim our attention, and that sets us free for the work of prayer and contemplation, the adoration of God. Your friend, then, living outside a monastic setting, has the task of deciding for herself how to so simplify her life that she makes place for solitude, for quiet, for prayer — because this now takes us to the heart of the matter.
On the Day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit was poured out upon all flesh. Before that, the charism of prophecy was held by specific individuals (Elijah, Isaiah, Ezekiel, etcetera), but since then we have all been charged with the responsibility of prophetic life. It is the ministry and service of every believer. There are two parts to prophecy. People think of a prophet as declaring, foretelling, forth telling, denouncing sometimes. They think of it as a spoken ministry. But there is more to it. The clearest message lies in the patterns and shape of a life. It speaks more clearly than the spoken or written word, and is more easily received. A steady example of faith when people are losing conviction, of kindness when there is dissension, of love in a time when people are afraid, of honesty and authenticity when men are bewildered and can no longer trust what anyone says, of hope when it despair takes hold of those around you, of calm and quietness of spirit when everything is in fearful chaos — in short, holding your the light steady so others can see the way home; this is the prophetic life.
While the outer, seen work of the prophet is to shew forth — to both speak and live — the eternal truth of God, there is a corresponding inner work as well. This inner work is crucial for guidance, to find the path the light shines on, and so this is of particular importance to your friend as she looks for the way to go.
Do you remember the passage from the book of Isaiah, in the sixth chapter; the one that begins with words tingling with wonder: “In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord”?
And do you remember that he hears Lord asks, who will go for me, whom shall I send?
Isaiah responds to this with an interesting Hebrew word, “Hineni”. It means, “Here I am”, and is rich in meaning, in import and implication. Glad service is characterised by the spirit of Hineni, “Here I am”. It is a wholehearted giving of oneself, no withholding. It is a readiness, being present to life in this moment, bringing oneself to the encounter with what constitutes the now moment — the kairos — of today. And do you see, the “hineni” was spoken into the encounter with God in solitude, rather than outwards to the business and activity of service in community?
It is something like when men sing together in harmony, in polyphony; each man has to bring his attention to the music as a whole, be ready for his moment to sing, to blend, to add his voice. You can’t get it right if you aren’t paying attention. The paying attention is necessary if you want the singing to go right. When it's not your moment to sing, you aren't doing nothing, you're watching and following and waiting: you're paying attention so you don't miss the moment to come in.
In effect, this means a significant proportion of each day should ideally be spent in silence and solitude, paying attention, being present to the divine presence, waiting upon the Lord. You can’t just shout “Hineni!” To the four winds and hope for the best. You have to listen first, in order to discern what to do, which way to go. "Hineni" is not a initiative, it's a response.
I wonder if it might be possible for your friend to build into her life a rhythm of making retreats? What the Lord Jesus said to his followers who were so hemmed in with things requiring their response: “Come ye apart to a quiet place, and rest awhile.” And notice he said “come”, not “go”; he was intending to be with them.
So, although I do not know her and her circumstances personally, if I were her confessor I might presume to suggest to your friend that her first task is to make space for a regular time of quietness and listening — a daily, weekly, monthly, yearly rhythm of smaller and greater lengths of time. Just her, not her and her husband. And apart in a quiet place, not in her home where everything her eye rests upon reminds her of tasks unfulfilled. That in these protected times of solitude and quiet she brings the spirit of Hineni — “Here I am” — of wholehearted presence, really paying attention, waiting upon the kairos, watching for the moment to add her voice to the complex harmony the world is singing.
So, in summation, I think I would counsel her thus: if you can find a wise guide, someone to talk things through with you, that will serve you well; and to put in place a discipline of rhythmic solitude, to listen with full attention for the voice of the Lord. This may help you in discerning vocation, in responding to the kairos for this season of your life.
I humbly offer these thoughts, and if she has further questions I am always here. I’m sorry I missed you when you came, but I hope this is of help.
Your affectionately in the Lord Jesus,
Dom Theodore Smith OSB.
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