“Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy.”
— Thomas Merton       
By NORMA DAVENPORT
This past November, I attended my sixth retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, a Trappist monastery in
Kentucky. For over 160 years, these Cistercian monks have led a life of prayer, work and sacred reading,
grounded in the heart and mystery of the church. I am not Catholic, so I rely upon my Catholic friends
for understanding and guidance. I look forward to this yearly pilgrimage because of the solitude and
silence while participating in another way of life. I especially enjoy learning how other people arrive
at their own unique spiritual destinations.
In the beginning, I was consumed by the question, “Why did you come?” I finally was satisfied with one
resident’s response: “It is not so important why we come, it is more important why we stay.” Still,
these spiritual seekers who adopt a vow of poverty remain a conundrum to me on many levels. As an
observer of people, I have come to believe that the Trappist monks of Gethsemani strive to be in this
world, but are not of this world. I am in awe of their dedication, sacrifice and soft-spoken manner.
In 2010, my friend and co-traveler, Eleanor, introduced me to her relative, Father James. This delightful
man came to Gethsemani over 60 years ago, after graduating from high school in Tulsa, Oklahoma. This
priest and former chaplain has always answered my probing questions over dinner. Father James developed
a friendship with Thomas Merton, a highly-esteemed writer and social activist, in 1951, when Merton
served as spiritual director for 35 young monks who were studying for the priesthood.
The Abbey of Gethsemani has opened its doors to guests, including those of different faiths, since 1848.

Guests are encouraged to explore the sacred grounds that include acres of woodlands and fields that
surround the monastery. Often, visitors will see signs posted along certain paths saying, “Silence is
spoken here.” The monks believe that silence fosters and preserves the climate of prayer.
I consider myself a contemplative, and sometimes feel homeless in my search for a spiritual path. I do
not subscribe to any one religion or insist that people should conform to my understanding of God.
Neither did I grow up in a religious home, but do remember saying prayers at a young age without
prompting. Sometimes, I feel fortunate that I did not struggle with a “hand-me-down religion.” My
motivations spring purely from a curious nature and an inherent need to learn about others.
I seek eclectic wisdom from a variety of religious teachings that include some Eastern religions, i.e.
Buddhism. This kind of spiritual seeking often requires critical thinking and a willingness to embrace
interfaith dialogue with others who do not necessarily share my world view. During such discussions, I
am inspired and humbled by other people’s stories. I realize just how much I do not know and often feel
like a small fish swimming in a big, diverse pond.
I have met good parents whose religious teachings have served them well. However, sometimes when parents
are rigid and impose their unexamined beliefs upon their children’s psyches, it can contribute to a
lifetime of distortion and feelings of guilt and shame. Guilt says “I made a mistake,” while shame says,
“I am a mistake.” This painful alienation or “soul murder” has nothing to do with religion and
everything to do with emotional and verbal abuse.
Whether we are religious or not, we still need to question and examine our underlying motivations before
imposing our beliefs upon others. In other words, we need to be mindful stewards of our preconceived
ideas that sometimes include faith-based thinking.
As Merton advises in the opening quote, love others, but be careful how you choose to inspire people.
Think, before burdening them with your judgment or condemnation.
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Bowling Green resident Norma Davenport is a former mental health worker and advocate with the Family
Service Counseling Center of Wood County.