Part of the unsettling experience of going home is the discrepancy between the me of six months ago and the me of now. It was greatest around my friends for what I think are issues of maturity and because I'm at a different state in my life. Bachelorhood has been left behind. More than that, I'm trying to incorporate the Rule of Benedict into my everyday life and it is sometimes dissonant with life as I live it.
You know those cartoons that show a devil and an angel on one's shoulders? I'm growing a St. Benedict and I try to view my life and actions through the Rule.
Over the break, I found myself angry at my inability to conquer my outward arrogance, an arrogance that those most close to me know to be a facade anyway a facade that covers some minor self-esteem issues. I'm too arrogant about my own knowledge of Christianity (still so incomplete) and I when I should remain silent until asked, I lecture. So, I'm working on tearing down a facade of unearned arrogance. I want to replace it with a humility that is both comfortable and accommodating to others. I've made progress, but part of going home seemed to unconsciously regaining the old habit of showing my ass.
That is not the only thing I need to work on. I talk a good game about the Christian duty to the poor, but I'm trying to deprogram myself of my accumulated sense of who is deserving of help and who is not. Today I was given an opportunity to see how far I still have to go.
Our service was over today and as I was locking up with Gil and waiting for a friend to finish choir practice, we met a man at the door of the church. Gil opened the door that he was blocking, trying to stay dry, out of the rain storm that has threatened all day. The bottom had fallen out of the clouds and the rain was coming down. Gil asked him if he needed help; he responded that he needed a new life. Gil invited him in and excused himself to collect something for the man (James, originally from Michigan, homeless, hoping for a temporary job bricklaying and registered with a local labor service).
I helped him roll up his large sleeping bag and as we were standing there the little Saint Benedict in my head started talking.
---You don't need your umbrella. You have a car and you've been considerably wetter for longer periods of time than an uncovered walk to the car will make you. Give it up.---
He asked if I had a few dollars and I said no. I had given all the cash I had at the offertory, but I told him GIl might be able to provide some. On cue Gil walks in with a bit of cash and a bag containing various easy-to-carry snacks and drinks. He asked Gil to pray with him; I silently joined from the background that I retreated to. Gil then offered to let him stay until the choir practice was over, warm and dry. He accepted and planted himself in the narthex to drink what had been provided. I stepped into the chapel close by; I thought I'd do the rosary while I waited for my friend to finish choir. St. Benedict returned.
---Why in God's name are you in here practicing some form of personal piety when you have a mission to that man! YOU HAVE SEVEN DOLLARS IN YOUR POCKET!!---
I did. I had kept it separate from what I was offering in church and honestly had forgotten that I had it. I rarely carry cash. I immediately walked out and gave it to James. I wish I could have done more. I frequently feel a sense of impotence in the face of many of the hard problems people have. At least in Mobile I knew some shelters but at the moment I know nothing about this area that I am in.
So I did a little, and I have a long way to go. It makes me mindful of how I have just started on a journey with neomonasticism and the distance I must go.
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