After our morning Bible study, one of our new English friends dropped us off in the nearby town of Cluny— home to the first Benedictine monastery— for a walk-about and some lunch. We scrambled to get a bus back in time for our afternoon study group, which was now comprised of me, Michael, who could not communicate on his own, Rasmus, Michael’s main helper, Michael’s second helper, Hele, a nice Danish woman who spoke limited English, my aunt (who felt like taking the afternoon off), and Val, who had joined us the day before. She was one of those lively, chatty, country women who lived either in Scotland or France or both —it was hard to track all the details with her— but whose joyful spirit was a welcome addition. We had just found our little spot on the lawn when a new man approached. He reminded me of an oversized Colin Firth, simultaneously awkward and pompous. We welcomed him and, after learning that his name was Alistair and he was from Britain, we dove right in, turning to a quote by Father Basil Gondikakis. He was the abbot of a monastery on Mount Athos, who used mystical, poetic language to express his thoughts.
“With the example and the help of the Virgin, every peaceful and transparent soul, open to the divine will,
can become a Mother of God, according to grace, conceiving and giving birth to a little joy that transcends death.”
Beautiful, I thought, as the circle fell silent, pensive, grateful for the words. “Alistair,” I said, wanting quickly to engage him, “What do you get from this passage?”
He shifted his bulky frame in the small metal folding chair and said, “Well I don’t think there’s much to get. It’s fairly superficial.”
“Really?” I said. “How so?” I began to fear that he was so much brighter and more advanced theologically than the rest of us that my delight in the passage was about to be shown as folly.
“Well it’s about parenting, obviously. And I suppose that’s helpful for some. I mean, I know people who are always looking for parenting tips in the Bible and of course there aren’t any.”
I didn’t know where to start. The entire group fell dumbstruck. I don’t think I’d ever led a group of adults in which someone had missed the mark by that much. “I’m not sure it’s really about parenting,” I said gently. “I think it’s trying to say something about how each one of us —men and women alike — can give birth to a special kind of joy and hope, if we’re willing.” I quickly turned to the others. “That’s just my thought. Did anyone else have anything?”
“Well, I agree with Heather,” Val said, which didn’t seem to please Alistair. She then went on for another 7 or 8 minutes expanding —but not by much —on what I’d already said. Michael, usually a vocal contributor declined to add anything. Hele and Rasmus smiled vaguely as if a pleasant expression might help quell the growing tension. Alistair did not look at Val as she spoke, but when she was done he turned to me with his hand on his chin, his index finger posed along his cheek as if preparing to say something snide, or perhaps, have a photo taken for a book jacket. “How is it that you came to be the leader of this group?” he asked. “Are you a part of the Taize community?
“Oh, no,” I said, starting to wish I had stayed in Cluny, enjoyed another glass of Pouilly-Fuisse. “I’m just a visitor, like you.”
“I don’t understand, then, why are you leading this group?”
“Well, I guess, someone has to. I just got things started earlier in the week and it’s sort of stayed that way.”
Val chimed in, her hand on my back. “Heather does an excellent job. We’re very glad to have her.”
“Would you like to lead instead, Alistair? I’d be happy to have you do it.”
“No, no,” he said. “That wasn’t my point.”
“Well, would you like to pick the next discussion question?” This would be hard for him to do, as he had not read any of the material in advance, not because he didn’t have time, but because he seemed to find it all, in the words of Family Guy’s Peter Griffin, a bit “shallow and pedantic” for his tastes.
“No, no, you go ahead,” he said, and returned his attention to the patch of grass at his feet.
I looked at my lap, thumbed through the question prompts and the short readings, prayed silently for guidance. Looking up I decided we’d get a fresh start. “Let’s move onto Br. John’s questions for a minute. Question 1: How does the life of Jesus change our understanding of God? (to be continued)
Heather Choate Davis 