Historical Setting: The Great Skellig, 924 C.E.
I came down to the Sister’s garden expecting to step into a theological debate: does trust in God relieve us from preparing for our own daily provisions? Or does true faith mean our preparations will be sufficient with the help of God?
Thank you, God, for allowing that more than one way is righteous.
I find the sister has young Lugh milking the goats. I wonder about this relationship. Here is this young man, whose wealthy father chose him to be a monk to assure he would always be in a safe and holy place with brothers, when facing the inevitable grief of losing his only parent. And here is this young woman, Sister Brigid, who keeps as careful a watch over Lugh as she does her own brother. She wanted Brother Lugh to be the first monk I would encounter at the Monastery.
Thank you, God, for your wondrous ways of synchronicity, weaving all varieties of threads of love into every life. No one is spared the grief, but also, no one is spared the love that sometimes seems to sharpen grief.
As a friend to both, I can observe from a distance. I don’t see a grand romance secreting away capturing two young lovers. It is more subtle, extra-long looks, and a smile, turned aside… and it is true, what the goat knows and Sister Brigid knows, but what I’d never noticed of my cellmate — he does have good hands. What I see here is this Sister and this Brother, not arguing their differences in the theology of answering God’s call to feed the poor, but taking on the task despite their differences of opinion. Of course, here the poverty is accepted as a holy choice, not as a misfortune.
Returning to the monastery, I find the abbot at our cell looking for us after we both missed the morning prayers. He probably expected to find us sleeping late.
“I was off looking for Brother Lugh also.” I tell him.
“Did you find him?”
“He is helping Sister Brigid with her morning chores.”
“The morning chore of a monk is prayer.”
“I think he’s aware of that. But he feels called by God to feed the hungry.”
“So, God called him to be a contrarian? We all suffer his antics with never a calm sea so we can send him back.”
I vouch for him, “He still actually tries to be faithful to his holy calling.”
(Continues tomorrow)
