Here is what Merton wrote on September 3, 1941: "The measure of our identity, of our being (the two are the same), is the amount of our love for God. The more we love earthly things, reputation, importance, pleasures, ease, and success, the less we love God. Our identity is dissipated among things that have no value, and we are drowned and die in trying to live in the material things we would like to possess, or in the projects we would like to complete to objectify the work of our own wills. Then, when we come to die, we find we have squandered all our love (that is, our being) on things of nothingness, and that we are nothing, we are death. But then, most of all, in the terrifying light of pure Being and perfect Love, we see the hatefulness of nothingness, of death. But if we have loved Him, and lost ourselves in Him, we find ourselves in Him, and live forever in joy.
But tribulation detaches us from the things of nothingness in which we spend ourselves and die. Therefore, tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.
Let me then withdraw all my love from scattered, vain things—the desire to be read and praised as a writer, or to be a successful teacher, praised by my students, or to live in ease in some beautiful place—and place it all in Thee, where it will take root and live, instead of being spent in barrenness.
My life is measured by my love of God, and that, in turn, is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation." (Thomas Merton, Run to the Mountain: Volume One, 1939-1941 [entry for September 3, 1941])
The passage begins and ends with “love for/of God” and in between are words and images that describe what happens when we forget that primary call – “our identity is dissipated,” “we are drowned and die,” “squandered,” “nothingness,” “tribulation,” “barrenness”. Not the kind of things we like to hear or associate with our lives. Now, it is easy to write off Merton as a fanatical, out-of-touch monk; a kill-joy. But the reality is that Merton was very much involved in life. He loved life and people and to laugh. He wasn’t a somber, cheerless stoic. His pictures, poetry, teaching and writings show that he found pleasure in the world. But his life was also a struggle. He struggled most of his life with maintaining that focus on love for God above everything else. He knew that it was that center which gives focus to life and helps us to see our lives in a greater, more fuller, richer context than simply pursuing the “American dream” or following the siren call of consumerism or unfettered capitalism or passively accepting our society’s often twisted understandings of success.
Merton, like the Christ he loved and followed, wants us to see our lives in the context of our inevitable end – death and its judgment on the totality of our life. And it is here that he found something positive in “tribulation” – difficulties, trials, suffering, pain. Like C.S. Lewis who once wrote: “Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world”, Merton paradoxically reminds us that pain/tribulation reminds us of our humanity, our finitude, our need for priorities in life. In that sense, “tribulation gives us life, and we love it, not out of love for death, but out of love for life.” And the “life” he is referring to here is abundant life, life with an eternal meaning/being.
Now I think that that is an important lesson to learn, but it is hard. It is so counter-cultural. But do we really want anything else? Richard Rohr quotes the poet Rainer Maria Rilke:”When we are victorious over small things, it leaves us feeling small.” In other words, we need a worthy opponent, challenging goals, to realize our identity, our being, our destiny and purpose. Our life is measured by our love for God. And so we push on, trying to understand the will of God for our lives, for the society in which we live, and for the world.
And Merton reminds us, as did Jesus and John and James (Mark 12:28-34; Matthew 25:31-46;1 John 4:7-21; James 2:1-13), that my love for God “is measured by my love for the least of His children. And that love is not an abstract benevolence: it must mean sharing their tribulation.” In other words, one measure of our growth in our relationship with God is the tangible sharing in the humanity of those around us, especially their pain. Here is a challenge to expand our circles of concern and to realize that our relationship with God, our spirituality, is always more than simply me and God together on the journey.
