Historical Setting: The Great Skellig in an unknown time
Brother Lugh, my cellmate here in this monastery, had a great revelation that he is beloved by the whole universal bond of love that is God, but now, he is thinking about returning to the mainland.
Sister Brigid and Lugh, and I too, are walking back toward the monastery.
I ask, “Are you thinking of breaking your vows here, just when God has broken into your life?”
His laugh is awkward. He’s been solemn for so long that humor with its comfortable smiles and little twinkles of joy seems ill-suited to him.
He says, “I’ll talk to the abbot. I’m pretty sure I have a holy commission on the mainland, or maybe it’s restlessness. I don’t know what I feel.”
Sister Brigid chimes in, “Clearly your calling is from God. On the holy island every wonder here is holy.”
We reach Brother Lugh’s cell and Sister Brigid pours out a share from the flask of milk, as though she were serving a lady of wealth her afternoon tea. Then she starts off on her rounds.
Another day we would sit here, sharing the blessing of this milk. But today, Brother Lugh follows her. Catching up, he shoulders the skins of milk for her. Her trek always ends with the stop at the church for the abbot.
Now, when the brothers gather for noon-tide prayers they find both the abbot and Brother Lugh absent. Someone said they were seen sitting outside in the far corner of the cemetery wall, deep in a very serious conversation.
Regardless of their absence we all join in the chanting of the psalm. One offers a prayer that mentions the abbot’s wayward absence or maybe it is envy that Lugh gets special attention.
I offer his reason. “Don’t you suppose our shepherd is busy rescuing the one lost sheep?”
Some know the rule for reciting the psalms better than the actual gospel.
I also offer the benediction.
Returning to our cell Brother Lugh tells me of his decision.
“Don’t worry, Brother Lazarus, I didn’t blame you for my wayward choice, even though I am considering leaving here just as you are assigned my cellmate. It was my decision to leave when the boat comes to take you back.”
“You mean a boat is coming to take me away?”
“Of course. We are expecting a boat any day when the sea is calmer. It will bring the winter supplies. But the abbot agrees you would probably prefer the homeland.”
“I would?”
(Continues tomorrow)
Lazarus Ink 