What Abbot John said to Abbie

 This is what Abbie wanted to ask Father John:

“Hello, I would like to hear what the brothers think about what it means to lead and influence in the way of Jesus. Of course we are not meant to seize power and influence nor do we need to clamor for our voices to be heard. But many people around me (in the church and outside) expect me to lead and influence and speak. And I do feel I have ideas and words that ought to be shared—but to whom and when? Perhaps Abbot John would be willing to speak about leadership that is humble and self-giving like Jesus. (He and Father Peregrine and the rest have already taught me so much, and I am grateful).”

I don’t ever knock on his door (nor he on mine). We just suddenly and surprisingly find ourselves in the same place. So here I was, this late September afternoon, sitting across from him, the other side of his big oak table where he’d been writing something. He looked up and saw me, and smiled. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, and I told him what Abbie wanted to know. He listened; and he laughed.

“Expectations? Oh yes, by all holy, I surely know about expectations!” He looked at me, his eyes kind of merry and bright. And then he said: “But, you see, there’s a big difference here between me — us — and your friend’s situation, because of our vow of obedience.

“Sometimes, here, we can say ‘no’, or more likely ask if we may be relieved of an obedience, but in general what it comes down to is we do as we’re told. If I take Cormac out of the kitchen and send him to the checker, well, that’s where he goes. He wasn’t too delighted when that happened, either. This is why we call the role we play in the community an ‘obedience’ — because that’s exactly what it is.

“What your friend Abbie is dealing with is something more subtle and potentially confusing. If I have it right, the aptitudes she has are giving rise to a situation where she feels pressured to volunteer. But then, because these may be real gifts she has, the roles of leadership and teaching are probably attractive to her. So the inner conflict arises between wanting to step into the ministries of the word and positions of leadership — and being encouraged to do so — and also wanting the humility and simplicity of Jesus. She doesn’t have the straightforward option of simply being told what to do. I can see that’s not easy.

“Where we do feel the weight of expectation here is once we have actually taken on the obedience. If the books our scribes have laboured hours to make are mishandled or the covers go mouldy, that’s on the librarian. If our cook serves up underbaked bread, he has to watch thirty or so men struggling to eat it and coping with indigestion, courtesy of his ineptitude. Every morning the whole community hears a chapter of the Rule, and then sits quietly waiting for what I have to say, poor lads. Everything anyone does affects all of us. There is a significant weight of expectation upon us because of that. Everything we do makes a difference.

“I’m interested, by the way, that there is a possibility of her leading and teaching. I think your times are different, maybe. I haven’t known this happen except in a house of religious sisters or else a mother in her family home. Otherwise our leadership figures in both religious and secular life are men. It’s not a thing I’m opposed to, though — the leadership of women. My own mother was wiser than the men who hated her for her knowledge of healing, and that she could read and write. She’d have done better service than they did, in all sorts of ways.

“I can never be sure I’m right — even if I think I am, I still can’t be sure — but my instinct is that the heart of what will keep Abbie steady is authenticity. I mean, really being herself. Being open and honest and truthful, and always offering her true self to other people.

“Expectation can often lead to pretension. If others put you on a pedestal, your whole life can become the balancing act of trying not to fall off.

“I think maybe if Abbie, knowing that she influences others whatever her formal role may be, can remain just humbly honest and never pretend to be what she is not — if she won’t fall for the temptation of trying to polish up her image — then the service of leadership won’t become a poisoned chalice. Just to say, ‘I don’t know,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I got that wrong,’ or ‘Can you explain that to me because I don’t understand,’ will help. Not to be afraid to defer to others with greater knowledge, and listen with humility to the wisdom of older men, and the fresh insights younger men bring. Or women. To see that there are different ways of doing things, and we can all learn from one another. Nobody has to be the fount of all wisdom, that’s not realistic. Just each day, humbly to do your best, and start again when it all goes badly wrong.

“Every day, please tell your friend, I absolutely beg the Lord Jesus to lead me. I don’t mean just guide me or show me the way or give me a map — truly, you have no idea how obtuse I can be and what a colossal muddle I am capable of getting into. I ask him to actually lead me, as he would lead a donkey or a packhorse, literally. And he does. When I look back on the way I’ve travelled, I see how it all fits, how necessary it all was, how unexpectedly right; because I trusted him to lead me, and he did.

“And then, as for knowing when to speak and who to speak to — I think it might be so simple it sounds as if I’m not taking it seriously — I am, though — just speak to who is listening and when they ask a question. That, and have the courage to speak when they’ve got something badly wrong and are about to do themselves a mischief. We can’t just stand and watch people fall off the bank into the Strid* without even warning them.

“Now look, my little sister — if I don’t get these requirements for guests written down and delivered into Brother Cormac’s hands before Vespers this very day, I think he might personally eviscerate me; they’re already late.

“So can you remember all this to tell your friend Abbie? And maybe say one more thing to her — not to be afraid. There is absolutely nothing like a position of leadership for revealing with shrivelling clarity how unequivocally stupid one can occasionally be. If pride is what she fears, that’s unlikely to happen. But take one day at a time, and trust that our Lord Jesus would never, under any circumstances, let her down. Maybe just take the next step. And, for heaven's sake, if I’ve missed the mark completely and not properly addressed what it was that she wanted to know, please assure her she can always come back to me. I’m usually here.”

That’s what he said.

 

*The Strid.