Monday, August 25, 2014
I seem to have the gift of teaching, or at least a lot of people think I do, or maybe people are desperate. Anyway, last Saturday, up here at our monastery retreat house, I gave a reflection on some mystic type person and contemplative prayer. This is a pretty narrow field of interest, and I am only here a few months each year, and talk very little. Over fifty people showed up. Now many came for the good food and the atmosphere of the monastery valley, I know. But surely a couple came to hear me. Well, I think so. What I wish I had was the gift of remembering what I read. I remember that I read something. If it is non fiction I will recall the tenor or tone of the author's point. But I cannot seem to relate much detail. If I read a novel, I will remember I read it, but not much of the plot. I will remember that I enjoyed these books. So I guess that I read to enjoy, since my mind is not gifted with much more. I write notes from my readings, if I am going to teach from the book or subject. Without notes, I seem to be, duh! The gift I have is for putting myself into the teaching, how it affects me, how I succeed or fail, where something helps or does not help me. I seem to end up telling stories. After the teaching last Saturday, someone said I could always do standup comedy. Is that a good thing when talking about prayer? Do you think we should just accept what gifts we have and let the rest go? Will you forget this blog in five minutes? If so, maybe I am good for the moment, funny at times, and then, "Father Whats His Name." If it gets me to heaven, OK.