When I entered the community in 1971, a lot of the monks would talk to me about Dr. Miller. He used to be a doctor who had a very good relationship with the Monastery and would take care of the needs of the monks. I am not sure how it worked, how often he came out, but it was appreciated by the community; he was respected and loved and considered a friend by some. He died before I entered, I guess in the late 60’s. I heard so much about him that he almost became a mythical figure. Of course as the years have gone by, I have not heard anything about him for, well, decades. So I pretty much forgot him.
Then word came that his wife died, I guess she was in her 90’s. She wanted to be buried in our ‘green cemetery’. Since three monks are still alive who knew him, there was an exception made and a memorial mass was said in our crypt chapel. I heard about it, but soon forgot that as well. There was no connection for me. Though that changed a bit this Saturday; a pleasant surprise for me, I love being surprised.
Then yesterday morning three women came in asking me where the memorial was being held. I thought they were lost and gave them directions on how to get to the cemetery across the way on highway 212 and Susong road. Then as they were walking away, a light came on about Dr. Miller’s wife’s memorial. So I rushed out and asked them if they were here for Mrs. Miller. They said yes and I took them to the chapel where the memorial was taking place. I am happy that I did not send them on a wild goose chase.
It was strange for me to meet the family of a man that I heard so much about so many decades ago, even if was for such a short time, mere minutes. Yet here they were and I felt more of a connection with Dr. Miller, he became real, not some impersonal name of a man who was loved and respected by the community years before I entered.
To connect with a human being will take away a lot of barriers in seeing them for who and what they are. The world is a big place, and I am not the center, though the illusion is still very much in place. I met a man once who thought that when he left a room, everything after he left ceased to exist until he came back in. So I asked him about myself, when he leaves the retreat house will I cease to exist. He said yes, that is the way it always has been. Since there was no way I could prove him wrong, though he was, I did not respond but just smiled. I guess the better thing to have done, and may have been to his liking, if I screamed and tore my garment at the reality of my soon to be extinction and ran out of the room. I think he liked drama, he being the creator of it all.
The only center that is true and filled with creativity and love is God. All centers on God, flows from God and returns to God. When I fall into the trap of thinking I am the center of the universe, I fall into using others for my own ends and fall into a place of misery and frustration. Sartre believed that, when he talked about love and friendship. It was a type of devouring to fill a bottomless void. Sounds like hell. For I have no life of myself, I am emptiness without the love and grace of God, who brings me to the true center, the place where my heart finds rest.
May Dr. and Mrs. Miller rest in peace, for he was a good man, and no doubt she was a good lady….for as they saying goes, behind every great man there is a woman.
Br. Mark Dohle, OCSO
Holy Spirit Monastery
