Walking in Valleys of Darkness: A Benedictine Journey Through Troubled Times
120
Walking in Valleys of Darkness: A Benedictine Journey Through Troubled Times
120Paperback
-
PICK UP IN STORECheck Availability at Nearby Stores
Available within 2 business hours
Related collections and offers
Overview
This noted Benedictine monk and priest shares his personal journeys through troubled times, using the discipline of meditating on single words of Scripture from the New Testament. He skilfully translates from Greek to English to reveal these "buried treasures" with multiple nuances of meaning that give light along difficult paths in life.
Meditations are followed by questions for reflection, further examples from Scripture, and a quote from the Rule of Saint Benedict to aid the reader.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9780819227393 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Church Publishing, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2011 |
| Pages: | 120 |
| Product dimensions: | 5.00(w) x 6.90(h) x 0.60(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Walking in Valleys of Darkness
A Benedictine Journey through Troubled TimesBy Albert Holtz
Morehouse Publishing
Copyright © 2011 Albert Holtz, O.S.B.All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8192-2739-3
Chapter One
My World Falls ApartThe Closing of Saint Benedict's Prep
The first Benedictine monks I ever met were my teachers at St. Benedict's Prep in Newark. By the end of my freshman year I had already decided that I wanted to become a monk like Father Eugene and Father Benedict and live in that monastery and teach in those classrooms. I did indeed become a Benedictine at nineteen, and after being ordained a priest I did begin teaching at St. Benedict's in 1969. Unfortunately, not long after my arrival, rumors started circulating that our school was in such serious financial difficulties that it might not survive. It was a typical scenario for Catholic institutions in inner-city areas during the early 1970s: a combination of the lack of new monks to replace the ones who were dying or leaving, declining enrollment due to a general disaffection with Catholic education, and "white flight" from the city into the suburbs where new archdiocesan regional high schools were being built. Eventually these factors and others culminated in St. Benedict's closing in the spring of 1972, less than three years after I had started teaching there. I was only twenty-nine and my life had been turned upside down. This was the most devastating event I had ever experienced and it left me dazed and disheartened.
The four reflections that follow, written so many years later, include insights that came to me as I was going through the experience and others that are the fruit of long reflection. But all of them attest to the fact that moments of trial can also be occasions of grace and growth.
1. A Frightening Newness
I lay there in my dark room in the monastery after midnight trying in vain to fall asleep. I just stared at the ceiling as the glow from the streetlights seeped in around the edges of the shades to paint eerie shadows on the ceiling. I'd been lying like this for a couple of hours, too troubled and anxious to sleep. That evening at a meeting of the monastic community, my whole world had suddenly been changed forever: It had been decided that our school would close in June, four months from now.
For almost three years I had been living out my plan, my dream of teaching here at Saint Benedict's Prep, and had assumed that I would continue to do so for the rest of my life. And now that dream was ended, and the future had become a complete blank. From this night onward my future would not be what I'd hoped and planned. I had no idea what was going to happen in my life, except for one thing: It was going to be something completely new.
I had always loved new things, such as putting on a new shirt or starting a new school term with a classroom full of new faces. And the Lord, too, seems to have a fondness for new and unfamiliar situations, starting with the act of creation itself, and then the call of Abraham, calling the Israelites down into Egypt and then out into the wilderness and finally into the promised land. Through the entire New Testament as well the Lord is always up to something new. Saint Paul's repeated call to become a "new being" used to sound like a great idea. The lines "see, everything has become new" (2 Corinthians 5:17) and "[you have] clothed yourselves with the new self " (Colossians 3:10) used to delight me. Until that night. Suddenly I was face to face with an unsettling and even terrifying side of what it means to be "new." I just kept staring at the shadows on the ceiling and trying to make sense of the confused patterns.
Although I didn't know it that night as I lay there haunted by fears and anxieties, I was actually in good company: I was experiencing what our fathers and mothers in the faith had experienced many times in the days of the early church. They had noticed that while newness could sometimes be a source of pleasure, at other times it could be the cause of real suffering. In fact they left us in the New Testament some good insights on newness, including two very different words for new.
One Greek word for new, neos, means new in the sense of "recent, young." It's a pleasant enough word used for such things as the "new wine" that gets poured into old wineskins (Luke 5:37). This kind of new describes a new version of something else, as when Jesus is called "the mediator of a new [neos] covenant" (Hebrews 12:24). Everything would be great if "new" were limited to this kind of newness. But unfortunately the New Testament idea is complicated by a second word for new, which describes a very different kind of newness.
The other word is kainos, new in the sense of something entirely unheard of and unknown, previously un-thought-of, and entirely different from anything that went before. It describes, for instance, the "new self " we need to put on: "put away the old self of your former way of life ... and put on the new [kainos] self, created in God's way in righteousness and holiness of truth" (Ephesians 4:24). This new self is not some cosmetic "makeover" in which we remain essentially unchanged inside (that would be simply neos), rather we are being called to be entirely new persons, not neos but kainos.
Unfortunately it is precisely this unsettling, radical kind of newness that shows up in the most crucial passages of the New Testament, and it was exactly this kind of newness that was keeping me awake that night.
Kainos describes the "new creation" that every Christian already is; "So whoever is in Christ is a new [kainos] creation: the old things have passed away; behold new [kainos] things have come" (2 Corinthians 5:17). Once again it is clear that God is not interested in freshening us up a bit by simply renovating our old, familiar ways.
Since we cannot be entirely new (kainos) while at the same time holding onto our former ways of behaving, one of the key requirements for following Christ and entering the kingdom is openness to being thoroughly transformed.
As I found out that terrible night, the message that "All the old, familiar things have passed away" is frightening and painful; but, as I have continued to discover over and over, being neos, "new and improved," is simply not good enough; it is not what we are called to be as Christians. We can draw some comfort however from a vivid vision in the Book of Revelation, written for Christians who were enduring terrible persecution: "the holy city, a new [kainos] Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God" (Revelation 21:2). The message is clear that even in the midst of appalling suffering—perhaps especially in the midst of such suffering—the transformation of our own world is already under way, just as it was on Calvary. But while we're in the midst of a shattering ordeal, it's nearly impossible to appreciate this newness at work.
I lay there sleepless with worry, still having no idea what God was about to do—except that it would be something new, and not the pleasant kind of new either; it would be something entirely different from anything that had been before—kainos.
Small wonder that I never did fall asleep that night.
For Reflection
1. Has God ever called you to a new situation that was not just neos (an updated version of some previous situation) but rather kainos (previously un-thought-of)? If so, what did it feel like? How did you respond? Did it change your relationship with God?
2. Reflect for a few minutes on these words of St. Paul: "So whoever is in Christ is a new [kainos] creation: the old things have passed away; behold new [kainos] things have come" (2 Cor 5:17). Has the Lord been asking you recently to let go of something "old" and familiar in order to make you into a new creation? If so, have you been resisting the change? Welcoming it? Accepting it grudgingly?
Sacred Scripture
Kainos is used also in Mark 1:27, 14:25; John 13:34; Acts 17:19; Gal 6:15; Eph 2:15; Heb 8:8; and Rev 21:1.
Rule of Benedict
Elsewhere Scripture says: O God, you have tested us, you have tried us as silver is tried by fire (Chapter 7, "Humility," v. 40).
2. Finding Courage
I could hear the heavy oak chairs scraping on the floor as the rest of the monks stood up and began leaving the long oval table. I had stayed seated, eyes closed, resting my forehead on the table top, slowly shaking my head and moaning inwardly. I'd never been a risk-taker. In fact I'd always prided myself on my measured, cautious approach to life. But that night, Oct. 12, 1972, my cautious side had taken a back seat: We had just voted unanimously to open a new school in our old buildings the following year.
Over the previous five months, since the closing of St. Benedict's Prep, a lot had happened to our community and to me. The mere feat of surviving as a community had given us courage, and we had grown into a unified group determined to stay and live as monks in the city. So under the circumstances it was not completely unreasonable for us to try to put our school facilities and our talents to use once again and attempt to run a school. But I had my head on the table just the same.
Once the decision had been made, the reality of the daunting challenge began to sink in. Next would come, at least for me, the onslaughts of my own timidity and fear. Over the following months and years, as I wrestled with my own fears, I would I ask myself "How can you be afraid if you really believe that God is with you?" Fortunately our mothers and fathers in the faith have left us some helpful insights into how we can confront failure, frustration, and in their case, persecution.
You need to know that the New Testament has two different words for fear. First, there is the common Greek word for fear, phobos, giving us our English word "phobia," which can sometimes refer to a fear that is wholesome and productive, such as the fear of the Lord or of someone in authority. But the kind of fear that can paralyze us and keep us from moving on to the future is better expressed by a second Greek noun, deilia, which conveys more the sense of "timidity" or "cowardice." This was what I was feeling that night as I sat there with my forehead on the table in the meeting room.
Jesus used the adjective form of this word when storm waves were threatening to swamp the boat in which the apostles were crossing the lake: "Why are you afraid [deilos], O you of little faith" (Matthew 8:26)? The connection is clear, that anyone who is timid and fearful in the face of a threat must be lacking in faith.
To know that our lack of faith is what is behind our worrying is not in itself very helpful or consoling, but fortunately the New Testament offers some practical suggestions for dealing successfully with our cowardice and timidity.
One passage in the Second Letter to Timothy has been particularly helpful to me over the years: "For this reason I remind you to stir into flame the gift of God that you have through the imposition of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice [deilia], but rather of power and love and self-control" (2 Timothy 1:6–7). Here Paul is contrasting the spirit of cowardice with three qualities of the "spirit" that can help us respond more courageously to the problems and challenges of life. Each of them—power, love, and self-control—can be a help in dealing with our own anxiety.
The first attitude that can help us overcome the spirit of fear, according to Paul, is the "spirit of power." Here the crucial question is, "In this situation, whose power will we automatically rely on, our own or God's?" That night I was naturally thinking only in terms of the limited resources of our little group: our talents, our buildings, and so forth. But if we were going to count only on our own limited, feeble forces, then of course we would run into plenty of situations that would threaten to overwhelm us. But in the very next verse Paul offers an alternative to this approach: "relying on the power of God, who saved us" (2 Timothy 1:8). If the power we rely on is not our own but God's, then everything changes, for "I can do all things in Christ, who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13). We certainly worked hard during the next few months, most of us at jobs outside the monastery, while devoting a lot of energy to community projects and problem solving. But we were all conscious from the start that if our venture was going to succeed it would be because God had made it happen. No matter how much time and effort we spent, ultimately it would all depend on the Lord. From time to time under the pressure of trying to get things done I would forget this truth, but my brothers, through their homilies and conversations always helped me regain my perspective.
The second characteristic that can help us to conquer cowardice is "the spirit of love." John tells us "there is no fear in love" (1 John 4:18). A mother's love makes her capable of heroic actions to save her child from danger even at the risk of her own life. Contrast this with the spirit of self-centeredness, which practically guarantees that everyone and everything will be seen as posing some sort of threat to us. If our small group had felt a need to be in control of everything, then we would have had to live in constant fear that events might get beyond our power, or that our plans would be foiled. But our shared sufferings and frequent meetings and informal conversations had created a bond of caring for one another, making the "spirit of love" a reality in our lives. Because of this intense sense of community, any fears about what might happen to our plans and projects were much easier to handle. I know this was certainly true for me.
The passage from 2 Timothy offers a third quality for countering fear: "self-control." The Greek word, which is sometimes also translated "discipline," means literally "sound-minded." If we let ourselves be controlled by our emotions so that we're always flying off in one direction or the other, then we will be insecure, unsure of our ground, and thus afraid of what may be lurking around the next bend in the road. I remember how the senior monks were a good example to us younger, more brash, and impetuous members in those first days of planning a school. Eighty-five-year-old Father Celestine, with his heart and mind "firmly grounded in the Lord," was never given to deilia. I used to envy him. He was always offering us words of encouragement: "Don't worry! God is good! The Lord will take care of things." More than once during the previous few months I'd had to borrow some of his courage because I didn't have enough of my own.
As I finally lifted my head from the table and pushed back my chair, the future loomed ahead of us like a wall of impenetrable fog. But over the years my brothers and I have learned a lot from Paul: "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather of power and love and self-control." The more we accepted the gift of that spirit from the Lord, the more confidently we could walk together toward whatever future the Lord had in mind for us.
Reflection
Think of something you are afraid of and consider how each of the three spirits mentioned in 2 Timothy might help you deal with that particular fear: (a) relying on God's power instead of your own; (b) loving (sharing your fear with others?); and (c) being rooted firmly in God.
Sacred Scripture
"Afraid" [deilos] or "fear" [deilia] appear in Wis 9:14; Sir 2:12; and 1 Macc 3:56.
Rule of Benedict
Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset (Prologue v. 48).
3. Losing Your Nerve
"What if we can't get enough students to come?"
My own unsettling question jarred me out of a fretful half-sleep. I checked my alarm clock. Two a.m.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Walking in Valleys of Darkness by Albert Holtz Copyright © 2011 by Albert Holtz, O.S.B.. Excerpted by permission of Morehouse Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Introduction....................1CHAPTER ONE My World Falls Apart: The Closing of Saint Benedict's Prep....................5
1. A Frightening Newness....................6
2. Finding Courage....................10
3. Losing Your Nerve....................14
4. Being a Paraclete....................17
CHAPTER TWO Learning to Let Go: Knee Surgery....................23
5. Weaving the Web of Love....................24
6. Leaning on the Lord....................28
7. Seeking God....................32
8. A Work in Progress....................36
CHAPTER THREE Getting Hollowed Out: The Death of My Brother Bob....................41
9. Reading with the Eyes of Faith....................42
10. The Healing Visit....................47
11. The God of Compassion....................51
12. Expanding My Heart....................55
CHAPTER FOUR My Turn with the Monster: Cancer....................59
13. Calling for Help....................61
14. Lying Down in Green Pastures....................64
15. You of Little Faith....................68
16. A New Sense of Time....................72
CHAPTER FIVE Welcoming Mystery: Our Community Grows Smaller....................77
17. The Other Side of God....................79
18. Learning How to Worry....................83
19. Getting Passionate....................87
20. Opening Up....................92
CHAPTER SIX The Key to Troubled Times: The Paschal Mystery....................97
21. Witnessing to the Risen Lord: Father Maurus....................98
22. Surprised by Joy....................103
23. Lifted Up with Christ....................107
24. Rising to New Life....................112
Epilogue....................117
Annotated Bibliography....................118
Subject Index....................119
Index of Greek Words....................120