Yesterday morning, Fr. Paul Kidner, a monk of St. Louis Abbey, died. He was an English monk, who joined Ampleforth Abbey, in northern England, studied theology in Rome, and then, upon Ordination, was sent to St. Louis, a then-recently established foundation of Ampleforth’s. Upon moving to what was then St. Louis Priory in 1959, in addition to his monastic duties, he was put into the school, where his engineering education lead him to teach math, something he continued doing for more than 50 years.
By the time I was a student at what is still St. Louis Priory School, although the monastery has since become St. Louis Abbey, he was teaching only one class, AP BC Calculus, and was widely recognized throughout the school as one of the best teachers we had, and likely one of the best teachers anybody who took his class would ever have. There were two things that I think made this possible. The first was his exceptional grasp of the material: not just a knowledge of the mathematics itself, but of a variety of ways to explain it that made complicated concepts accessible to even the dullest student, as well as a knowledge of every possible mistake someone could make that came from more than 40 years of experience teaching the same subject. The second thing that made him a great teacher was his care and devotion to the students themselves. He was one of the only teachers I’ve had that could say “stupid boy,” not out of frustration or anger, but out of a love that wants what is best for the student, whether it be showing up on time for class, or actually doing the homework assignment carefully enough to avoid silly mistakes. This second part is primary: it is his desire for the good of his students that drove him to perfect the craft of teaching.
He brought a similar approach to the jobs he held in the monastery, whether being in charge of the money, as has been the case for most of my monastic life, or making the weekly schedule of tasks and masses to be assigned, or being in charge of the studies undertaken by Junior monks, or the many years he spent as the Prior of the monastery, the second-in-charge, under the Abbot. Primarily, and above all of these jobs that he held, however, he was a monk; faithful to the Divine Office, the daily recitation and chanting of the psalms done in the Church by the monastic community, timed perfectly so that he could walk in, take his spot in choir, take out his book and immediately start; faithful to his personal prayer and relationship with Christ which made him a source of wisdom for the community; faithful to the community life, always ready with a quip, a wise word, or an interesting practical idea, as appropriate; and faithful to the Sacrifice of the Mass, to which he had a great devotion.
So, what does any of this have to do with today’s readings? There is a general theme of evangelization in today’s readings. In the reading from Isaiah, God promises Israel that they will be more than his servants, but instead will become a light for all the nations, leading all nations to salvation. In the Gospel, we see John the Baptist giving testimony, and leading people to Jesus. There is a tacit invitation here for our participation in the Church’s, the New Israel’s, mission of evangelization: for us to become lights that can lead others to salvation, for us to lead people to Jesus Christ. This leaves us with a question of how we can accomplish that.
On a theological level, I think we can find the central answer in the first letter of St. Paul to the Corinthians, whose opening was the second reading. Before the apostolic blessing that he frequently uses in his letters, St. Paul says that he is writing to the church in Corinth, specifically, “to you who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy, with all those everywhere who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, their Lord and ours.” Fulfilling that call to holiness is what makes us capable of witnessing to Christ and the Gospel, of being a light for all the nations.
Following this introduction, and reminder of their call to holiness, St. Paul warns the church in Corinth about dissension and factions within it, warns them against immorality, especially sexual immorality, warns against causing scandal by eating food offered to idols, warns against abuses happening during the celebration of the Eucharist, and against unworthy reception of the sacrament, and many other shortcomings in the church of Corinth. In short, he details many of the ways that the people in the church of Corinth have failed to live up to their calling to holiness. Many of the ways they are not serving as a light to the nations, the ways they are not leading people to Christ.
The letter, however, is not entirely negative. He gives several positive recommendations for how to become holy. He tells them to center themselves in Christ crucified, the core of the message he gave them when he evangelized them. He recommends giving up marriage to be able to focus more on God. Most beautifully, however, he proposes love as the way to holiness. He writes, “If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.” He even gives several signs of love: “Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.” It is the gift of love that can solidly build the holiness that St. Paul is calling the Corinthians to that allows us to live lives that are holy and upright in God’s sight, avoiding sins like those that had been committed by the Corinthians. Love is indispensable for the holiness that can make us lights for all the nations. It is by love, patient, kind, joyful in goodness, hopeful and perseverent, that we testify to Christ, the lamb of God who died out of love for us, that we might be saved from our sins.
This can seem somewhat abstract, and hard to define, so it can be helpful to think about specific examples. The easiest to point to are the saints, those who did works of heroic holiness, out of a heroic love: the martyrs who died out of love for Christ, the doctors of the Church, whose deep love of God and the good lead them to study His mysteries and gain insights about the faith, the holy pastors who devoted themselves to passing God’s love onto their flock, the great missionaries who, out of love for all people, brought God’s Word, Jesus Christ, to the ends of the earth, fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy. However, there are also sometimes doubts that can creep in when we look at their heroic holiness: how on earth could I possibly do that?
For these doubts, it can be helpful to look at lives like Fr. Paul. Lives that profess a simple holiness, applicable to anything God calls us to do, whether we are called to enter a religious house, teach in a school, or something else. Through the long, sometimes difficult, but simple and straightforward life of conversion that Benedictine monks are vowed to, he persevered. Throughout his life, God’s love, that he expressed in his patience with monks and students, his simple, joyful demeanor, the care he took in the jobs he was given, and his devotion to the monastic life, served as a light leading to salvation and a pointer to Christ for many monks, students, and anyone else he encountered. May he rest in peace!
About the homilist:
Father Edward Mazuski O.S.B. is Junior Master of Portsmouth Abbey and he teaches Mathematics in the School.
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