Sunday, February 26, 2006
Break Fast at the Monastery
My circuitous desert walk has brought me full circle, so before continuing my trek, I decide to pause for a hot meal. And arriving in the dining room, I could hear that the brothers have much on their plates this morning at break fast, for Bro. Juniper raised a point for our consideration. He referred to a comment I had made about bees providing us with honey, and Bro. Juniper offered, is that not theft? What in return do we give the honey bee? Then Bro. Cedric poked his fork into a plump sausage and raised it in the air and offered, "And what does this dear pig get in return for my dining delight?" Of course this caused a stir among the brothers, soon others questioned our 'theft' of eggs from our hens, and then Bro. Sedwick hushed us all when he raised a single biscuit above his head and asked, "Is the death of a wheat plant any less significant than the death of a muddy, stinky hog? At least the wheat plant stands tall with dignity, and with its brother and sister wheat plants provides a feast for our eyes, a beautiful sight indeed! Yet with razor-sharp scythes we mow down whole fields of these 'gentle' and dignified creations!" With that statement, the dining table fell silent. One brother who was about to bite into a biscuit, removed it from his waiting mouth and placed it back onto his plate. Soon many of the brothers pushed their still-full plates away, and then removed themselves from the dining room. I fear what will take place this evening at dinner time. Perhaps I should remain here a bit longer before continuing my arid trek? Felix seems to find the monastery agreeable.
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3 comments:
I have been a "silent watcher." I just want to tell you how much I enjoy your posts. Please don't stop.
Whilst reading the streams of conscience (if such is the case after wine), I wonder if those that take in the food and drink at the monastery, dine on chairs covered in now endangered Nauga hides. When the modern men came across the middle of this great country generations ago, they saw the herds of mighty Naugas and slaughtered them by the thousands with no regard to those who had raised and kept the herds. When they were all but gone, the homes of Americans were filled with soafs, chairs and ottomans covered in those precious hides. It was the 1950s and they called it Art Deco. So ... as you dine in the relative luxury of your closed abby, look at the chairs around the dinning area ... are they part of the greatest, but unknown, slaughter of this nation's history? If they are, appropriate measures, both physical and mental, need be taken.
D.Burgoyne,
President
Save the Nauga Society LtD.
Bro. Don,
All chairs and tables are of a kind of pine that I understand was transported from the Sierra Nevada as raw logs by our dear abbot before he was indeed a dear or an abbot, but that is another story for another day. I think the abbot does not share the rather extreme ideas of Bro. Sedwick, so the planing of the trunk and limbs of a pine create no moral dilemma for the abbot. I should mention that Bro. Juniper did, years ago, care for a stray Nauga and kept it in a sort of corral that he constructed of dead joshua tree limbs stacked and arranged in a large circle. If I remember correctly he did train the Nauga to count to ten, the Nauga sort of pawed the ground with its front hoof to the delight of the brothers.
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