Raiser says Agnes is worried about money again. Waste of time, I’d say. Our Lady of West Saugerties will fall down around our ears some day or burn down or we’ll be evicted for some reason that hasn't occurred to us. Whatever happens, it is out of our hands. We'll just survive, somehow. I suppose the eleven of us could head down to the malls and become superannuated stock boys at Best Buy or greeters at Sam’s … get jobs and become solid citizens. But we are not solid citizens. We are revolutionaries. We are monks whose job is contemplative prayer and study. No, it doesn’t make sense to most people. It doesn’t have to. I liked almost everything the Trappist Thomas Merton wrote about contemplative monks, except for his statement that our purpose is to pray for the world. Bullshit, Thomas! You were a little too left-brained. Not even we understand our purpose. We do it because we somehow know it is the right thing for us to do. The world can follow its logic. We’ll follow our …. well, I guess I’d say our hearts. Yes, the word I want is hearts.
As I age, I worry less about my soul. I think it will do what it is meant to do. I am more afraid for my heart, that part of me that feels someone's agony other than my own, the only part of me that stands a chance of leaving this world in better condition than when it got here.
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