Flip It on Its Head
Adapted from a sermon by Fr Antony Paul
On the first day of my first long retreat at the monastery, I saw what could’ve changed the course of my life completely. Prior to this stay, I had only been allowed to stay for a few days at a time. This time was different because they gave me my own room to stay for a few months. It reminds me of our current global climate and how we can all work together to make this pandemic of coronavirus a blessed experience for all.
One of the monks took me to my room and gave me a key. He told me that this was the only key in existence for this particular room. I could not lose it. This didn’t bother me too much as I was not a careless person.
A day or two later I wanted to go trekking in the mountains. The canteen was about 20 metres from my room and you only needed to walk in a straight line to get there. I had been assigned regular hours to work in the canteen so it was natural for me to stop there on my way to inform someone of where I was going to be for the rest of the day, especially because there were no phones around and they may have been worried if they noticed my prolonged absence.
Upon telling the canteen workers I would be leaving, I realised I had forgotten my Bible and writing tools. I put my hand in my pocket to feel for where the key to my room should be. I couldn’t find the key in my pocket. I searched up and down from the canteen to my room to find the key but could not find it. It was gone.
All I could think was, “I’m going to get wrecked.”
“But monks are nice,” I thought to myself, “so nice! He won’t be upset that I did the one thing I was not supposed to. He will be so nice about it and this will be just fine.”
Not long after, the Abouna that gave me the key came to the canteen because he had arranged with the head canteen worker, Arsany, that he would teach him to drive that day.
He walks in smiling, what a great time to tell him. As soon as I tell him, he stops smiling. I grin awkwardly. He frowns. I know I am in trouble now. He becomes visibly upset and I become internally upset that I made him upset.
It gets worse. The other Abouna that oversaw running the canteen did not want Arsany to learn how to drive that day. He gets angry at the Abouna that I had just upset and the peace that I had associated with the monastery was gone. The first Abouna does not care what the other Abouna thinks and takes Arsany in the car for his driving lesson, and he takes me with them as well.
As we drive, Abouna says to me, “Listen, I am not here to baby sit you. If you want something, just ask, but I am not going to run around trying to figure out what you need.”
I internally cried a little as he spoke, that wasn’t what I wanted at all. The tension remains high throughout the entire drive.
We get back from Arsany’s driving lesson and there is someone with a huge smirk waiting for him. Arsany treated the monastery as his own home and the canteen as his biggest honour. Every penny accounted for and his faithfulness was beyond reproach.
He asks Arsany, “how much money did you make in the canteen today?”
Arsany looks confused, he hasn’t been there all day so he’s unsure.
He continues, “How about 2500 EGP? Maybe you should take a bit more care of the monastery’s money.” He pulls out a huge stack of money and hands it to him.
Arsany turned red and runs to his room.
The two Abounas exchange angry looks and the second Abouna leaves.
The Abouna that gave me the key is quiet for a minute and then bursts out in laughter. He looked at me and says, “This is shoo shoo.” I later found out that shoo shoo was a nickname they used in the monastery for the “shaytan” (devil) so that he is a joke compared to God.
“Oh,” I reply, I wasn’t sure what else I was supposed to say.
“Don’t you see? If it is him then we have been playing his game all day long. We need to flip it on his head.”
“What does that mean?” I reply, still unsure how this related to anything.
We must do the opposite of what he wants. Follow me.”
We went to my room where he had asked for a carpenter to come and see if he could open the room. They failed. So Abouna picks up his galabeya and kicks the door down with his feet. We laughed hysterically and he says to me, “see you have your room now.”
Then he turns to me and says, “Listen you are upset, stop, I didn’t mean to offend or hurt you. What I was meant to say was the monastery is now your home so don’t be shy. I am so glad you’re here but I don’t want you to feel tied to me or anyone else.”
This lifted my mood completely, that’s exactly what I wanted and I felt much better knowing that he didn’t hate me. I was being sensitive and he was being well, less sensitive.
The second Abouna returned to the canteen. The first Abouna takes me with him back to the canteen and boldly storms in and makes a matanya before the second Abouna and says, “Akhtet (I have sinned)! You asked me not to take him for his driving lesson and I took him anyway, forgive me.”
The second Abouna panics and start prostrating as well, “no! I have sinned. It was me.”
They started crying and hugging each other and immediately realise there was still an upset Arsany that they needed to console. We went to Arsany’s room and knocked. He was not willing to answer. He ignored us completely. They forced the door open and sat on either side of him. They tried to engage him in conversation but it was not working.
I still don’t know why the second Abouna thought this was a good idea but he starts using his baby voice saying, “are you upset? Don’t be sad, Arsany” and pours an entire bottle of water on his head. No one could contain their laughter, even Arsany.
We went back to the canteen and ate a meal together in thanksgiving. We rejoiced in the Lord and in one another.
“Welcome to the monastery.” The first Abouna says to me
Real warfare doesn’t look how you think it looks. Don’t let the devil get to you during these hard times. The devil wants us to flip out, fight and go against each other. When we pontificate about why we are right or yell about how hurt we are, we do exactly what he wants. Everyone has opinions on what is right and wrong.
By using this time to be more divisive, we lose the blessing of having a different kind of Eucharist. If we had not reconciled that night, my entire life would be different. I would’ve left the monastery at this one issue.
This room key could have completely changed the course of my life.
Let us look at this situation and flip it on its head. Let us love one another and share the bread (and toilet paper). God is good.