N
NotThatGuy
Guest
How does one know that one is called to be a monk? Is it primarily a matter of personality or disposition, or is it more a very open-hearted choice one makes, regardless of disposition, to follow God in this way? What does God ask of monks?
I’ve always struggled understanding this sort of thing. Additionally, some recurring thoughts come back to me that I can’t shake. I’ll share them here. Any thoughts?
NTG
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. “Whither is God?” he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him—you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
“How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us—for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto.”
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out. “I have come too early,” he said then; "my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars—and yet they have done it themselves.
It has been related further that on the same day the madman forced his way into several churches and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing but: “What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?”
**Where are our Catholics going, those 85% or so that no longer come to Mass? What are our faithful looking for? How in the world is one supposed to live without God and in this world that has all but forgotten Him? **
I’ve always struggled understanding this sort of thing. Additionally, some recurring thoughts come back to me that I can’t shake. I’ll share them here. Any thoughts?
NTG
- I’ve heard that “the final goal of a monk is the Kingdom of God…”. What does this mean specifically? What does that mean—“the Kingdom of God”? Is this the goal of any other people in life, or monks only? Does the faithful monk necessarily achieve the Kingdom of God more fully than say a faithful Jesuit who perhaps divides his time up and searches for God in other ways?
- We seem to be a people who have countless means and methods and technologies and experts on this, that, and the other thing at our fingertips, and yet, no real sense of what we’re actually doing. The question, “yes, but what’s it all for?”, posed in the face of this activity is seldom asked. It’s like having a car with a million special features and a zillion road maps, but no destination to travel towards. More and more I ‘feel’ in my being this overabundance and instead of filling me, it wears me out. And yet, I have this bizarre guilt feeling about my draw towards contemplation, that somehow it would be selfish to spend more time in prayer and spend more time perhaps ‘doing nothing’, just sitting in front of God at an adoration chapel and keeping my mouth shut if I can. Often, this thought comes to mind that I don’t want to say anything or hear anything, that I’ve had it with the noise, I see no point in all of it and this sense that I must do this and do that in the world is something that seems completely mistaken. Can you make heads or tails of something like this? Have you had any experience like this?
- Can one become a monk if one is not a very good singer?
- I have always been deeply struck by Nietzsche’s “Parable of the Madman”; that someone renowned as an atheist and so much touted for the raising up on mankind in this kind of eruption of willpower, that for all of that, he still managed to portray, it seems to me, a very accurate portrayal of our world today and that he seems to ‘get it’, to know what it is worth:
The madman jumped into their midst and pierced them with his eyes. “Whither is God?” he cried; "I will tell you. We have killed him—you and I. All of us are his murderers. But how did we do this? How could we drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving? Away from all suns? Are we not plunging continually? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or down? Are we not straying, as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is not night continually closing in on us? Do we not need to light lanterns in the morning? Do we hear nothing as yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.
“How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it? There has never been a greater deed; and whoever is born after us—for the sake of this deed he will belong to a higher history than all history hitherto.”
Here the madman fell silent and looked again at his listeners; and they, too, were silent and stared at him in astonishment. At last he threw his lantern on the ground, and it broke into pieces and went out. “I have come too early,” he said then; "my time is not yet. This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light of the stars requires time; deeds, though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than most distant stars—and yet they have done it themselves.
It has been related further that on the same day the madman forced his way into several churches and there struck up his requiem aeternam deo. Led out and called to account, he is said always to have replied nothing but: “What after all are these churches now if they are not the tombs and sepulchers of God?”
**Where are our Catholics going, those 85% or so that no longer come to Mass? What are our faithful looking for? How in the world is one supposed to live without God and in this world that has all but forgotten Him? **
- What ‘place’ does a monk hold in the Body of Christ?