Quieting the frenzy
16/10/14 05:16
Some have claimed that Thomas Merton was the most influential Catholic writer of the 20th century. I am certainly in no position to argue with that assertion, not being an expert in Catholic writers, and not even being very well-read in the field. I discovered Merton through Henri Nouwen, whose diaries and other reflections on the nature of ministry have been inspirational to me throughout my career. Nouwen’s letter to his father on the anniversary of his mother’s death is a powerful reflection on the interplay of faith and grief. His book The Wounded Healer is an important study on the nature of Christian ministry. His choice of living and working with adults with developmental disabilities after a brilliant career as a teacher and academician has been a model for some of the choices in my life.
Nouwen frequently mentioned Merton, especially in his journals and it was after reading one such entry that I obtained and read a copy of Merton’s autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain. Actually, the autobiography was written comparatively early in his life and there was much more to his tory than that book. Merton was a Trappist monk, a peace activist, and an author of many other books and articles. Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander was written fairly late in his life, I think. it may even have been published after his death in 1968. It is a collection of notes, short essays, opinions and reflections on topics as wide ranging as the so-called death of God, racism in America, values and politics.
Recently I was reminded of Merton when reading a blog by Parker Palmer. Palmer offered this quote from Confessions of a Guilty Bystander:
"There is a pervasive form of modern violence to which the idealist...most easily succumbs: activism and over-work. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence.
To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence.
The frenzy of the activist neutralizes his (or her) work... It destroys the fruitfulness of his (or her)...work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful."
The passage strikes me precisely because it so well states a confession that could be mine. My life seems to contain a cycle of allowing myself to “be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns.” I am prone to passionate concern. Each time I am involved in providing care for grieving families after a death by suicide, I dive deeply into suicide prevention work. I come back from visiting a grieving family and make lists of people that I need to call and check up with to make sure that they are OK. Outside of my regular work, that has been my focus this week. Today i will go from a lunch I set up with a sometimes-depressed teen to the viewing of a 20-year-old who died by suicide in our community. On my list for the day is a phone call that I must make to set up a visit with a retired person who is struggling with depression.
What the grieving family needs most is the gift of calm, peace, and time. Grief cannot be rushed and the ministry with that family is one of patience and presence. Just being their is perhaps the most important thing that I can do today. Praying with those who have no words for their prayers is a gift that I can offer.
But I am not content with just being. I am compelled to dive into doing. I know that when I sit with this family for an hour or two today, I will find myself making a mental list of others I should call and checks I should make.
I have an image of myself as a person of peace. I don’t like the image of the frenzied activity that often sweeps me away as a form of violence. But Merton is right. There is a form of violence in the urge to engage in over work.
The challenge of every person of faith is not just the work we do, but the source of that work. I need to pause at regular intervals and ask myself, “What am I doing to nurture the Spirit within myself?” How do I remain deeply aware and motivated by the spark of the divine that has been given to me? Am I nurturing my inner wisdom so that it will be the source of my strength and work, or am I simply working myself to exhaustion and depleting the strength that is within?
Today as has been the case many days in recent years I am up before most of the neighborhood. But I am not the only one who is up. Our neighbor has a small dog that doesn’t seem to fit very well into their active lifestyle. Many days of the week, the dog is put out in the evening and the exhausted owner falls asleep without letting the little one back in the home. The dog gets lonely and scared in the darkness of the night and yips and yips at the door. If I venture out, I scare the animal and the barking gets worse, not better.
Sometimes I feel like that little dog, running from door to door and yipping and accomplishing nothing. If the dog would simply curl up on the door mat and go to sleep it would get into the house just as quickly as it does with its fear and barking. But it cannot do so. It has to keep trying, keep yipping, keep working, even when its efforts are fruitless.
I don’t want to be a little dog wasting my time and annoying the neighbors. I want to be a productive member of my community. I need to avoid giving in to the frenzy of over work and instead turn to the silence, solitude, reflection and prayer that nurture the inner wisdom that makes the work I do fruitful.
Anything less is to commit an act of violence. And our world does not need more violence.
Nouwen frequently mentioned Merton, especially in his journals and it was after reading one such entry that I obtained and read a copy of Merton’s autobiography, The Seven Story Mountain. Actually, the autobiography was written comparatively early in his life and there was much more to his tory than that book. Merton was a Trappist monk, a peace activist, and an author of many other books and articles. Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander was written fairly late in his life, I think. it may even have been published after his death in 1968. It is a collection of notes, short essays, opinions and reflections on topics as wide ranging as the so-called death of God, racism in America, values and politics.
Recently I was reminded of Merton when reading a blog by Parker Palmer. Palmer offered this quote from Confessions of a Guilty Bystander:
"There is a pervasive form of modern violence to which the idealist...most easily succumbs: activism and over-work. The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence.
To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence.
The frenzy of the activist neutralizes his (or her) work... It destroys the fruitfulness of his (or her)...work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful."
The passage strikes me precisely because it so well states a confession that could be mine. My life seems to contain a cycle of allowing myself to “be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns.” I am prone to passionate concern. Each time I am involved in providing care for grieving families after a death by suicide, I dive deeply into suicide prevention work. I come back from visiting a grieving family and make lists of people that I need to call and check up with to make sure that they are OK. Outside of my regular work, that has been my focus this week. Today i will go from a lunch I set up with a sometimes-depressed teen to the viewing of a 20-year-old who died by suicide in our community. On my list for the day is a phone call that I must make to set up a visit with a retired person who is struggling with depression.
What the grieving family needs most is the gift of calm, peace, and time. Grief cannot be rushed and the ministry with that family is one of patience and presence. Just being their is perhaps the most important thing that I can do today. Praying with those who have no words for their prayers is a gift that I can offer.
But I am not content with just being. I am compelled to dive into doing. I know that when I sit with this family for an hour or two today, I will find myself making a mental list of others I should call and checks I should make.
I have an image of myself as a person of peace. I don’t like the image of the frenzied activity that often sweeps me away as a form of violence. But Merton is right. There is a form of violence in the urge to engage in over work.
The challenge of every person of faith is not just the work we do, but the source of that work. I need to pause at regular intervals and ask myself, “What am I doing to nurture the Spirit within myself?” How do I remain deeply aware and motivated by the spark of the divine that has been given to me? Am I nurturing my inner wisdom so that it will be the source of my strength and work, or am I simply working myself to exhaustion and depleting the strength that is within?
Today as has been the case many days in recent years I am up before most of the neighborhood. But I am not the only one who is up. Our neighbor has a small dog that doesn’t seem to fit very well into their active lifestyle. Many days of the week, the dog is put out in the evening and the exhausted owner falls asleep without letting the little one back in the home. The dog gets lonely and scared in the darkness of the night and yips and yips at the door. If I venture out, I scare the animal and the barking gets worse, not better.
Sometimes I feel like that little dog, running from door to door and yipping and accomplishing nothing. If the dog would simply curl up on the door mat and go to sleep it would get into the house just as quickly as it does with its fear and barking. But it cannot do so. It has to keep trying, keep yipping, keep working, even when its efforts are fruitless.
I don’t want to be a little dog wasting my time and annoying the neighbors. I want to be a productive member of my community. I need to avoid giving in to the frenzy of over work and instead turn to the silence, solitude, reflection and prayer that nurture the inner wisdom that makes the work I do fruitful.
Anything less is to commit an act of violence. And our world does not need more violence.