I am delighted to share another beautiful submission to our Monk in the World guest post series from the community. Read on for Wisdom Council member Richard Bruxvoort Colligan’s reflection A Monk in the (Complicated) World.
Being a monk in the world means a complicated life. Yeah, I said it. Complicated.
We may imagine a monk in their robe, complete with centered heart, peaceful face, yada, yada. But Jesus’ quote in the gospel of John (10:10) about sharing “abundant” life? The Greek word there has connotations of “exceedingly great,” “over and above,” and “more than is necessary.” Replace the word abundant with one of the following and it might feel more like a regular life on planet Earth: full-range, extra to the point of overdoing, thick, full-to-overflowing, enriched.
This is certainly not to take anything away from those called to the monastic life. I simply want to invite you to consider your existence one of call, too.
I’m busier than I like this month. If I expected myself to be monasterial, quiet, and focused, I might think I failed. If vulnerable or pressured, sometimes I do feel that way, as if I should– drat that word– be something other than my current reality.
There’s a lot going on in an “abundant” life. For me, being a monk in the world means getting groceries, paying bills, caregiving for my spouse, playing Scrabble with said spouse, writing music, taking the dogs out, watching Netflix, leading worship, eating, writing a book, texting my friends, and sleeping with our pup Winnie. Specific parts of me are also called to move neurotransmitters, hormones, and blood to various locations in my physical body. My pancreas does something 24/7 I don’t even understand, and at the end of this sentence, a number of muscles will activate in concert to type this here period. See? Busy!
Do you ever call yourself bad names for imagining your day should– drat that word– have been different or better? You should be different or better? The best thing about the mystical, contemplative dimension of life is that This and That tend to merge. You sense the non-dual One that holds everything, yourself a part. On your best days you know this. You feel grounded and interwoven with all creation. But that doesn’t mean on other days you need to pretend to be surprised you don’t feel it. Noticing a too-busy, fragmented feeling is probably evidence that your grounded and interwoven nature is real, too.
In my small town of 1000 people, some of the church buildings have bells, including the Lutheran one across the street. They’re rung at times of worship. Back in the day, the farmers working out in the fields or in the barns would hear the Sunday morning bells and bow their heads for a moment of prayer. Amid their work, they were reminded they were connected to a community of faith.
Some of us pray the hours, moments plotted across the map of our day and night that call us to pause and practice reverence. Others of us respond to the sacred bell of a phone call from our kid. Or the blessed interruption of a colleague’s question or a pet’s nuzzle. Any of these things can bring us to the moment. When life feels complicated, I try to tell myself it’s abundant, full-range, and more than necessary. Then anyone can be a monk in the world.
Deep breath. Bless the over-busyness that reminds us we are all monks.
Richard Bruxvoort Colligan is a musician and passionate student of the psalms. He serves Mount Olive Lutheran Church in Rochester, MN, and lives with his wife Trish and their two dogs Winnie and Jack in Strawberry Point, Iowa, USA. Visit him online at WorldMaking.net
Richard also publishes songs directly to people who want them! Subscribe to get new songs each month and pay what you like at Patreon.com/RichardBC (recordings and sheet music).
