It was with reluctance that Fr. Gregory, OCD, pointed me (a hyper, zealous novice!) to John of the Cross' "Counsels" on my retreat several years ago. "People often misconstrue his writings," Father said with a grimace, "but you may find this helpful." "Helpful" proved to be an understatement.
John of the Cross became my fast friend, and some pieces of his writings have truly bored their way into my soul. One clause in particular has never really left my mind in the intervening years: "You should live in the monastery as though no one else were in it."
You should live in the monastery as though no one else were in it.
Wow. What could those words possibly mean? I had a great object lesson about them once while running on a popular trail near our convent. I was passed by three men - passed! - and it had quite the effect on me. The first effect was positive: it roused me from my mid-run apathy. I was chugging along, lost in thought, and was somewhat slack in my pace. Very well. I needed a little shot in the arm, and these guys delivered it handily.
However, something more subtle started happening. My thoughts went from the question of whether I was giving my best to the run to the question of how I was comparing to these men. "How long can I keep sight of them?" I wondered. How far are they going? What is their pace? Could I keep up with them if I really pushed myself? Disturbed by their superior running, I strove to go faster, and for a time I was (almost!) keeping pace with them.
But in setting myself to follow these fellow runners, I was thrown out of my own rhythm. As I realized that the pace I had come to was not sustainable, I had to ratchet down and found it difficult to get back in my own groove. Using these men as my ideal did not ultimately help me to run better—it was a distraction that left me off kilter and sapped energy (mental and physical!) that I could have used later in the run.
I think that we all do this in the spiritual life and I think this is exactly what John of the Cross is speaking to when he says to live in the monastery as though no one else were in it. As we all run the race of this earthly life, we are surrounded by fellow runners. These are our family members, but also colleagues, celebrities, and friends. And we can find it tempting to compare ourselves to others as we run. When we "pass" others, we can feel complacent, full of our apparent righteousness or strength. When others seem to pass us, we can become discouraged, frustrated, or jealous. We can also change our pace, trying to keep up or slow down, not wanting to appear better than others.
These reactions do not help us to run well. Each of us has been given a rhythm, a pace, to which we run this life, and no two people run just the same. Whenever we try to gauge our goodness or success by how we compare to others, we succeed only in throwing ourselves out of the rhythm entrusted to us. If we live our lives craning our necks to check out the people in the pew (or cubicle, or desk) next to us, we will lose sight of the goal, which is Christ himself.
To each of us, God has entrusted a particular call, given to nobody else. Every person was created in order to manifest Christ to the world in a unique and unrepeatable way. It is by that standard that we will be judged and not by how well we stacked up compared to the Joneses ... or Sister So-and-So, or our mother-in-law, or that lady at church with all the well-behaved children.
Let us, then, look only "to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith" (Heb. 12:2). And in contemplating him, may we find the joy and strength we need to run the race.
Sr. Agnes Thérèse Davis, T.O.R.
