Enlightened Pessimism and Hope: A Brief Reflection

I’ve been doing a lot of reading and reflecting on this Fourth of July holiday. Even thought it is sunny right now, we’ve had rain showers off and on all day with the accompanying thunder and lightning. I experienced something similar to those weather patterns as I read various articles on Substack and in the Christian Century and America magazines. Some of the readings have been hopeful and others revealed various shades of pessimism and even despair.

After reading all of that and doing some sermon preparation, I decided to pick up a book that I have had for quite some time but haven’t read (Follow the Ecstasy: The Hermitage Years of Thomas Merton by John Howard Griffin). A couple of years ago I read another one of Griffin’s books which is a combination of Merton’s photography and reflections on his conversations with Merton (A Hidden Wholeness: The Visual World of Thomas Merton).

Denise and my visit to Merton’s hermitage with a group of emerging Merton scholars and others was two weeks ago and the sense of wonder from that visit is still very strong and I began wondering what a conversation with Merton would be like on this particular day. Griffin shared the following in his prologue to Follow the Ecstasy.

Tom was a man of enlightened pessimism about the world. Many of our meetings left us with the feeling that this country was moving closer toward ever increasing sacrifice of the freedoms we professed to uphold. But even with such a depressing prognosis, his natural buoyancy, his robust humor and his grasp of the absurd made the most pessimistic meetings happy ones… So meetings with him had a kind of joy that remained untainted no matter what else might be happening around us. (p. 3)

Fr. Louis (Merton’s monastic name), how I would love to be with you on the front porch of your hermitage. While I crave the opportunity to talk at length about what is going on today in this nation and world, what I would really like to experience is your robust humor and laughter. We wouldn’t solve all of the problems in this nation and world, but your presence would be a blessing to this weary Padre. Even in the midst of the insanity that I see all around this nation and world today, which is eerily similar to what you experienced in the 60’s, I believe that you would share your pithy insights along with a healthy dose of laughter and joy.

But I am not sitting on the front porch of your hermitage today. However, I do feel your presence close by me, and as I reflect and ponder, I can see you joining me on our back porch here in Mobile, Alabama enjoying a beer, laughing, sharing in the silence, and smelling the wonderful curry that Denise is preparing for dinner. Thank you, Fr. Louis for your presence and encouragement in my own life as I seek to serve our Lord in this crazy world.