Today is the 40th anniversary of the untimely death, at 53, of Thomas Merton, aka Father Louis, a remarkable Trappist monk who seemed to have written down almost every thought he ever had. He published 70 books, as well as quantities of letters, articles, etc. I have one large volume of just peace and justice type letters he exchanged with countless notable people--famous and not.
Why am I drawn to him and why do I call him an angel? Well if this wasn't the "irrational season", I probably wouldn't be crazy enough to tell you. Maybe 20 years ago, long before I knew much about TM, as I call him, I was driving somewhere early one morning, when suddenly I became strongly aware that he was sitting in the passenger seat. The "vision" wasn't physical, but still I just knew he was there and I couldn't imagine why. I certainly hadn't been consciously thinking about him or desiring anything in particular. I don't think I'd even read any of his books. His presence felt safe, intriguing, somehow reassuring. Lots of time passed, I did read several books, and then again he seemed present. One morning I was putting on my makeup and felt sure he was watching me, leaning against the door frame, one foot crossed over the other, arms folded, a broad smile on his face. OK. Have you written me off yet?
Off and on, over all these years he's "shown up", sometimes at my request, but often capriciously. I began to see him as my guardian angel, though I have no real idea what that means. Still, it felt nice. Once when I made a solitary retreat in a hermitage down the road from Our Lady of Gethsemane, his monastery, near Bardstown, KY, I felt fearful at night--isolated, no telephone, no covering for the window in the door. Every night, as I lay in bed, scared, I asked him to protect me and immediately fell asleep.
The strangest thing happened once a couple of years ago when I was meditating. The thought came to me to look in a certain Merton book on a certain page. I don't remember what it was. I thought, "Well, I've really gone over the edge now!" But after the prayer time, it kept bugging me, so I finally found the book and opened to the page. In the midst of that page, he mentioned being someone's guardian angel!!! He referenced a specific person , but there was the term, guardian angel. There, where I would never had found it otherwise, among the many Merton books I own and the millions of words! How could I not believe we have some sort of spiritual bond?
The last time I went to his grave site at Gethsemane (I've been there several times), a retreatant, sitting under a tree, watched me and when I moved away and walked past him, he asked if I was a Merton fan. Before I stopped to think, I said, "Oh no, he's my friend." The man's face lit up and he asked if I had known Merton. No, I said, not in this life, but we are definitely friends. And I'm sure the spirit of TM is "friends" with countless other souls.
Here is part of a tribute to Merton from Joan Chittister, another amazing person of God. In part, she wrote:
Once upon a time some disciples begged their old and ailing master not to die. "But if I do not go, how will you ever see?" the Master said to them. "What is it we can possibly see when you are gone?" one of them asked. With a twinkle in his eye, the Master answered, "All I ever did in my entire life was to sit on the river bank handing out river water. After I'm gone, I trust that you will notice the river."
The lesson rings true: What teachers teach us while they live is one thing; the quality of what they leave us to think about the rest of our lives is another. Thomas Merton was a fascinating, engaging, offbeat, charming and provocative personality, true. But what he directed the world to see was far more than the mystique, the mystery of the cloistered life. He left us things worth thinking about for a long, long time.
Merton saw the world through a heart uncluttered by formulas and undimmed by systems. He taught more than piety and asceticism for its own sake. He taught concepts that flew in the face of tradition then and fly in the face of culture still: the sin of poverty, the moral imperative of peace, the rectitude of stewardship, the holy power of nonviolence, the sanctity of globalism and essence of enlightenment. Merton sowed seeds of contemplation that led to action---an often forgotten but always bedrock spiritual concept.
In Jewish spirituality, for instance, two concepts dominate and are intertwined: The one, devekut, translates as "clinging to God" or contemplation; the other, tikkun o'lam, translates "repairing the world" the work of justice. One without the other---contemplation without justice, clinging to mystery without repairing the real world---is unfinished, the tradition teaches, is dark without light, is grand without great, is soul without body.
Contemplation, Merton teaches us, is learning to see the world as God sees the world. The contemplative sees the world through the eyes of God and the real contemplative is driven to respond according to the mind of God for it. Clinging to God, in other words, generates the passion it takes to repair the world. Whatever my personal experience may or may not mean, I am grateful for a brilliant and faithful man who sought God and taught us to seek and find, as well. May his spirit continue to bless, even as I pray he rests in peace.
Today turned out very differently than I expected. Last night, too.
