The Rabbi's
Gift The story concerns a monastery that had fallen
upon hard times. Once a great order, as a result of waves of antimonastic persecution
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the rise of secularism in the
nineteenth, all its branch houses were lost and it had become decimated to the
extent that there were only five monks left in the decaying mother house: the
abbot and four others, all over seventy in age. Clearly it was a dying order.
In the deep woods surrounding the monastery
there was a little hut that a rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used for a
hermitage. Through their many years of prayer and contemplation the old monks
had become a bit psychic, so they could always sense when the rabbi was in his
hermitage. "The rabbi is in the woods, the rabbi is in the woods again "
they would whisper to each other. As he agonized over the imminent death of his
order, it occurred to the abbot at one such time to visit the hermitage and ask
the rabbi if by some possible chance he could offer any advice that might save
the monastery. The rabbi welcomed the
abbot at his hut. But when the abbot explained the purpose of his visit, the rabbi
could only commiserate with him. "I know how it is," he exclaimed. "The
spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes
to the synagogue anymore." So the old abbot and the old rabbi wept together.
Then they read parts of the Torah and quietly spoke of deep things. The
time came when the abbot had to leave. They embraced each other. "It has
been a wonderful thing that we should meet after all these years, "the abbot
said, "but I have still failed in my purpose for coming here. Is there nothing
you can tell me, no piece of advice you can give me that would help me save my
dying order?" "No, I am sorry," the
rabbi responded. "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you
is that the Messiah is one of you." When the
abbot returned to the monastery his fellow monks gathered around him to ask, "Well
what did the rabbi say?" "He couldn't help," the abbot answered.
"We just wept and read the Torah together. The only thing he did say, just
as I was leaving --it was something cryptic-- was that the Messiah is one of us.
I don't know what he meant." In the days and
weeks and months that followed, the old monks pondered this and wondered whether
there was any possible significance to the rabbi's words. The Messiah is one of
us? Could he possibly have meant one of us monks here at the monastery? If that's
the case, which one? Do you suppose he meant the abbot?
Yes, if he meant anyone, he probably meant Father Abbot. He has been our leader
for more than a generation.
On the other hand, he might
have meant Brother Thomas. Certainly Brother Thomas is a holy man. Everyone knows
that Thomas is a man of light.
Certainly he could not
have meant Brother Elred! Elred gets crotchety at times. But come to think of
it, even though he is a thorn in people's sides, when you look back on it, Elred
is virtually always right. Often very right. Maybe the rabbi did mean Brother
Elred.
But surely not Brother Phillip. Phillip is so
passive, a real nobody. But then, almost mysteriously, he has a gift for somehow
always being there when you need him. He just magically appears by your side.
Maybe Phillip is the Messiah. Of course the rabbi didn't
mean me. He couldn't possibly have meant me. I'm just an ordinary person. Yet
supposing he did? Suppose I am the Messiah? O God, not me. I couldn't be that
much for You, could I?
As they contemplated in this
manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on
the off chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off off chance
that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with
extraordinary respect. Because the forest in which it was
situated was beautiful, it so happened that people still occasionally came to
visit the monastery to picnic on its tiny lawn, to wander along some of its paths,
even now and then to go into the dilapidated chapel to meditate.
As they did so, without even being conscious of it, they sensed the aura of extraordinary
respect that now began to surround the five old monks and seemed to radiate out
from them and permeate the atmosphere of the place. There
was something strangely attractive, even compelling, about it. Hardly knowing
why, they began to come back to the monastery more frequently to picnic, to play,
to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And
their friends brought their friends. Then it happened that
some of the younger men who came to visit the monastery started to talk more and
more with the old monks. After a while one asked if he could join them. Then another.
And another. So within a few years the monastery had once again become a thriving
order and, thanks to the rabbi's gift, a vibrant center of light and spirituality
in the realm. M. Scott Peck
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