Why have so few people discovered genuine happiness? How can we change our lives so as to find more satisfaction?
These are questions of prime concern to Father Basil Pennington, Cistercian priest and abbot of Our Lady of the Holy Spirit monastery in Conyers, Georgia.
Members of my family and I talked with this spiritual leader recently at Harvard University. He had come there as this year’s Lenten preacher, talking about prayer and other approaches to the life of faith.
Tall and imposing, Father Basil has a face expressive of the peace and joy by which he lives. The white beard that frames his face gives him the look of a prophet, one with spiritual authority. He has written 70 books, at least one of them selling over one million copies.
From his vantage point at the monastery, Father Pennington sees many visitors who are looking for something more than life has yet given them. Many of them have achieved success in business or the other professions but, still, they are unsatisfied. They have a sense that what is happening in their life does not go far enough; there has to be something more.
“Happiness consists in knowing what you want and then knowing you have it or you’re on the way to getting it,” the abbot believes. Speaking of himself and fellow Christians he says, “If we want to be effective ministers of the good news, we have to have found it ourselves.”
Asked about those who have found the religious training of their youth more of a hindrance than a help, the abbot judges this unfortunately true of most people. Religion is taken to be a duty rather than a joy and God is portrayed as a stern taskmaster handing down loads of do’s and don’ts.
False images of God harm the spiritual life of too many Christians. These images run counter to the way Jesus speaks of God. Jesus emphasizes friendship with himself, and the Christian tradition at its best places this kind of intimacy with the Lord close to the heart of its message.
Father Basil relishes the stories by which Jesus tells about God’s love. These narratives are filled with poetry and myth that lead beyond themselves. The parable of the Prodigal Son, along with many such other stories, shows forth the personal love that God feels for his sons and daughters.
To hear such stories deeply, people must let go of what Father Basil calls “the narrow perimeter of their listening,” and it helps to listen to them the way children do when they keep enjoying the same story. He mentioned a child who has seen “The Lion King” 22 times without its wonder having worn off.
The best way to begin praying, the abbot advises, is to take up the ancient practice of Lectio Divina or Holy Reading. That means opening the Bible or other sacred text and reading it slowly and reflectively. In time this practice can become a source of light and peace.
As for people who fear getting old, Father Pennington has words of consolation. Since becoming abbot, he has grown familiar with old age: six of his monks are in their nineties and are not yet ready to give up. “All my guys want to live to be 100,” he reports with a laugh.
Using a traditional image, he compares life on earth to living in our mother’s womb. No one should want to keep on living in the womb; we need to break out into eternal life. Death can be a terrible experience but, if we have a deep confidence in the Lord, we understand death as a passage to a fuller life.
When we suffer the losses of old age, the great challenge is to “sanctify our diminishments.” This we can do by uniting ourselves with Christ in his passion. You have to discern what is being asked of you now. “God gives you not only the wisdom but the grace to handle it,” says the abbot.
He tells of suffering a minor stroke a few years ago that left him with only a fragile balance. This weakness serves him as a reminder of his dependence on God. While visiting Harvard, he fell in his apartment and, for a time, lay helplessly on the floor. Within his soul he turned to God and said, “Lord, I get the message.”
Richard Griffin