Father Kennedy, reprise

I have written about Father Kennedy before, or, at least, the novel in which he appears.  An ex-drunk, heading up a parish past its prime, he is afflicted with a severe case of acedia.  He approaches his parish and his responsibilities with apathy, if not disdain.

The climax of the novel leads him to a choice.  He is offered the opportunity to become the pastor of the parish in which he was raised, a parish that knew him and of his alcoholism.  It was a parish that was certainly move vibrant than the parish he led.  He decided to remain and to become a real pastor to his parishioners.

Earlier, I had watched and enjoyed Of Gods and Men.  The movie depicted the true 1996 story of Trappist monks in Tibhirine, Algeria.  The monks had been threatened by Islamist terrorists, and they had refused the protection of the local authorities, who also suggested that the monks should leave.  The Trappists were torn, many wanting very much to leave.  Ultimately, they decided to remain and continue ministering to the people of Tibhirine.   The critical line of dialogue: "Je reste."  I'm staying.

This line pretty much foreshadowed decisions I would be making.  When I encountered each of these works, I was hoping on hope to move away.  I desperately wanted to move West, especially to Denver.  Each time, I had opportunities; each time, the opportunity vanished.  I half-jokingly - okay, less than half - noted that these works suggested that I was to stay here.  I glossed over why these men were staying put.

What on earth does this have to do with the newly sober?  With the alcoholic who wants to stop drinking?

I think that, much as I wanted to go West, Father Kennedy would have liked to have gone to a shiny new parish.  The Trappists would have preferred a life of safety if not comfort.  Unlike me, they realized they had work to do: Father Kennedy, in his parish; the monks, in Tibhirine.

Getting and remaining sober requires you to do your work, as well.  Like Father Kennedy and the Trappists, you probably don't want to do it: the rehab, the meetings, getting a sponsor, working the steps, a lot of prayer.  Surrender.

Note that sobriety isn't the end game.  Like Father Kennedy and the Trappists, the work is what you do to become who are truly are.  To paraphrase Thomas Merton, another Trappist, the work is to identify what we are living for and what is keeping us from living for what want to live for.

I have my work to do, as well.