Abbot Michael's Homily

         Chapter 66 of the Rule of Benedict is titled: “The Porter of the Monastery.” The chapter begins “Let a wise old man be placed at the door of the monastery, one who knows how to take and give an answer, and whose mature age does not permit him to stray about.” Many years ago I was told a story by a monk us about his arrival at the monastery – not this monastery by the way. Because of the vagaries of travel with which we are all familiar, they had arrived well after dark at the front door of an imposing monastery building in which all the lights were out. They rang the door bell, and after a some wait, the door creaked were greeted by the a monk, the night porter, who very much fit the description of Chapter 66. He was quite elderly, a bit stooped and as if he had stepped out of a horror movie, had a patch over one eye. The monk who told this story said that upon seeing the night porter, his mother immediately burst into tears. After a sufficient pause, he said it was only much later that I resorted to tears.

          In the gospel we hear the story of the ten lepers who approach Jesus. Jesus orders them to go show themselves to the priests. Leprosy was such a scourge and so feared because of the possibility of contagion, that it was a rule of the Old Testament that no one could be declared clean and rejoin society unless they were pronounced so by a priest. On the way to see the priest, the lepers were cleansed. Only one returns to thank Jesus. But notice that Jesus never instructed any of them to come back. One individual, this foreigner, a Samaritan, someone normally despised by the Jews, was that unique person who decided to do something more than the minimum. He was grateful. He was insightful. He was blessed with faith. He returned to Jesus. One out of ten. So this evening Br August decides to do more than the minimum. He decides to dedicate his life in service to God, to his brothers in the monastery, and to the people the monastery serves. What is he? One out of ten? One out of one hundred? I don’t know. But I do know that this evening we witness a special moment. Br August’s profession is a blessing of faith. It is not only noble and admirable, but a step on the way to sanctification and salvation. Tears are appropriate not only at moments of fear or sorrow. Tears are appropriate anytime we invest ourselves personally and emotionally in some great human endeavor. This endeavor, this commitment to monastic life is not only human but also divine. Today is one of those happy moments in our lives when tears are appropriate. Our thanks to Br August for his gift of himself to our community. Our thanks to his family and especially to his parents. It is a treasure upon which it is appropriate for us all to reflect.