For all of his life Merton worshipped Nature—despite spending some of his formative years in New York City in his twenties. Both his parents were talented landscape painters. His mother died when he was six and he began to accompany his father on painting trips around the world. While his dad concentrated on rendering a still life of Nature, young Tom would wander through the woods. In Bermuda, he wrote, “Day after day, the sun shone on the blue waters of the sea, and on the islands of the bay. I remember one day looking up at the sky, taking it into my head to worship one of the clouds.”
As he was turning from a life of New York licentiousness, in his twenties, toward a religious pursuit, he applied for admission to the Franciscans—primarily because of Francis's love of Nature. He was devastated when they turned him down, because he had fathered a child out of wedlock in England. A friend suggested that he try the Trappists, who welcomed him.
After entering Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky—although he initially fully immersed himself in the discipline of a contemplative monk—he later began to desire a closer connection to Nature. He was given the job of monastery forester, which he treasured. He then agitated to be permitted to become a hermit, living alone in the woods that surround Gethsemani, and was eventually granted the privilege. In doing so, Merton was returning to the roots of ancient Catholic hermetic life.
He had arrived at his destiny! His life in the woods was sacred for him. He wrote, “I want not only to observe but to know living things, and this implies a dimension of primordial familiarity, which is simple and primitive and religious and poor. This is the reality I need, the vestige of God in His creatures.”
Just as Merton came to see the sickness in American culture that had led to massive delusion, media shallowness, and racism, he became increasingly upset with humanity's assault on Nature. In 1967 Rachel Carson managed—against considerable opposition—to publish her seminal book Silent Spring. It was at an auspicious event for Merton, as he resonated with her message of environmental injustice. He wrote to Carson, describing her impact on his thinking. In their resulting correspondence, she helped him to see that his stance on social injustices naturally extended to environmental injustice. This is a good example of how a cloistered monk can become aware of the inequities of society.
Merton became very outspoken on the problem... even vehement. He wrote, “What a miserable bunch of foolish idiots we are! We kill everything around us even when we think we love and respect nature and life. This sudden power to deal death around us simply by the way we live, in total innocence and ignorance, is by far the most disturbing symptom of our time.” With Carson's help he came to realize that the cause of environmental problems was the same as the societal problems that he'd been addressing.
Thus, with this last of a series of five posts on Thomas Merton's critique of society's assault on each other and Nature, I have attempted to describe his insights and influence on my thinking. I find it disheartening that 50-60 years after his prophetic voice attempted to awaken us to the damage we were doing, the situation has deteriorated further. I am convinced that he would be deeply discouraged. None of the essential and basic changes he called for have yet occurred.
No comments:
Post a Comment