We are now only a few mere hours away.
It baffles us how fast the past year has flown by.
More than
that, it baffles us how fast all our calendar years have flown by. Time truly
marches on and waits for no one.
Time is something that Shirli and I are learning to take
much more personally now that we have less of it. We may have more of it
available to us on a daily basis now
that we are retired. Longevity, where
time is concerned, is another matter altogether.
I find it interesting, these days, how things I have not
thought of in decades somehow make their way out of the recesses of my memory
department.
The evangelism class was required as part of the ministerial
program at the Bible College where I received my ministerial education and
pastoral training back in the late seventies and early eighties.
I honestly did not enjoy the evangelism class.
There was something about it that did not ring quite true to
me. It seemed too artificial, surgical, and mechanical – follow this program for evangelism with guaranteed results in winning
souls. It was, nonetheless, a required course and, as a requirement, I
participated. Perhaps, though, not in the spirit of willing obedience. The
program involved going out into neighborhoods cold canvasing, knocking doors,
and using a specific booklet to “share” the Gospel with anyone who would
listen.
A lot of doors were slammed in our faces. A lot of
profanities were spoken before doors were slammed in our faces. I remember an
occasion when one of the student ministers knocked on the entirely wrong door.
The biker-type that answered the door delivered a closed fist blow before
spouting profanities and slamming the door in his face. It took several days
for the swelling to go down and a few weeks for all the signs of the shiner to
finally fade and disappear.
It is funny how something that happened forty years ago
emerges as a memory this morning.
A lot has happened, a lot has changed, in
these forty years. One of the most significant happenings and changes over
these forty years regards our conversion to Catholic Christianity in 2007 –
twenty-eight years after the beforementioned young ministerial student wore the
shiner.
This memory reminds me of something that is attributed to
Saint Francis sometime around the dawning of the 13th Century. “Preach the Gospel at all times. When
necessary, use words.” I remind myself that the simple truth contained in
those words attributed to Saint Francis of Assisi is that actions will always speak louder than words. I remind myself that
what others see in me will always
predicate what they hear from me.
Here, only hours away from hanging the 2019 calendar on the
wall, I find myself doing some self-examination. I find myself thinking back
over the past year (and years) and looking ahead to the New Year with its
twelve blank pages of days waiting to be filled by the actions that I perform.
I remind myself that these actions will not go unnoticed. They will not go
unnoticed here on earth by those I am personally in contact with. They will not
go unnoticed by the Saints in heaven. And they will certainly not go unnoticed
by God to whom I must one day give account.
In closing out 2018, and welcoming 2019, I want to say thank
you to those that visit Oblate Reflections and read these personal reflections.
It is certainly encouraging that others invest their interest and time in
reading them.
It is my heart’s desire that, in offering these reflections
on a public platform, that others, especially other Oblates of Saint Benedict,
may be encouraged, edified, and challenged. It is also my heart’s desire that
others, others that are unfamiliar with the Benedictine expression of monastic
spirituality in these modern times, will discover an interest in the value of monastic
spirituality for these terribly difficult times in which we live.
“So that in all things
God may be glorified.”[1]
Pax
Your brother,
David
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