“The great paradox of Superiorship is that no one can be a
Superior unless he is fully worthy, and yet no one is fully worthy. There is
only one solution: that Christ Himself, in us, must be the Superior for He alone
is worthy. And we must be content to struggle to keep out of his way.
Above all, as you say so wisely, we must be glad if those
under us see our defects and are even aware of our sins in some way. Because
that means that they will not expect too much from us and will put their hopes
in Christ.
The crux of the whole problem of being a Superior is right
there; in the shame we feel at letting everyone down, the shame at not being up
to the task, the shame that everything will be known, that our nothingness will
be seen and realized.
So many Superiors, thrown into panic by this fear, become
harsh and demanding or suspicious and resentful. And that is not to govern but
to dominate. The same thing works the other way, of course, a hundred times
over. Because there are subjects who want to dominate, and do not want the
Superior to know their shame, and who try to get in the first blow. May God
spare you from such.
In the end, though, the solution is Love – you have said it.
And love, it seems to me, implies the realization that perhaps already those
subject to us know our failings very well and accept them with love and would
not dream of holding them against us, because they know these things do not
matter.
This is the great consolation; in the job of being known and
forgiven, we find it so much easier to forgive everything even before it
happens.
Pray for me, Catherine, in my own sins and struggles. After
so boldly advertising to the world that I would become a saint, I find I am
doing a pretty bum job of it. It is really funny and I am not surprised or
distressed to see what a damn fool I have been.
Maybe I have a call to that peculiarly Russian form of
sanctity – yurodivetsvo – to be a fool for Christ and to really enjoy it in a
quiet inconspicuous way.
But it certainly is a wonderful thing to wake up suddenly in
the solitude of the woods and look up at the sky and see the utter nonsense of
everything, including all the solemn stuff given out by professional assess
about spiritual life; and simply to burst out laughing and laugh and laugh with
the sky and the trees because God is not in words and not in systems and not in
liturgical movements and not in “contemplation” with a big C or in asceticism or
in anything like that, not even in the apostolate.
Certainly not in books. I can go on writing them, for all
that, but one might as well make paper airplanes out of the whole lot.
I must stop now and devote myself to the folly of getting up
a conference for the novices. But, it is not so bad. I prepare conferences and
then tell them something entirely different. If I gave them what I had prepared,
then that would really be folly.”
Excerpt of the letter by Thomas Merton to Catherine de Hueck
Doherty, September 18, 1958
from “Compassionate Fire” by Robert A. Wild