5:39 p.m. - Tuesday, Apr. 05, 2005
He Talks With The Fishes
I sauntered over to the visitor�s center to say hello to the koy. I stooped down and watched them clump together, hoping for a little something to eat.
�Good morning, boys. Sorry. Still nothin�.�
I stood and strolled on towards the building when a monk pulled up in a golf cart. For the younger monks, bicycles were the preferred mode of transportation, but for the more mature men of the faith, it was the handy-dandy golf cart. A pleasant-looking older fellow stepped out of the cart, smiled, and spoke with a soft, southern accent. �Were you talking to the fish?�
�Yep.�
�What did they say?�
�They said, �Good morning.��
�Did they say they were hungry?�
�Yes, they mentioned that, � I smiled.
And so went my first encounter with Father Bernard. I should like to talk to this guy some more, I thought.
Later that day, as I was walking from the church, the familiar hum of the golf cart came along from behind me, and Father Bernard offered me a ride. He took me to the visitor�s center, where he was filling in as Guestmaster for Brother John.
I told him where I was from and how I ended up there.
�Now, Are you Catholic?�
�Well, I feel Catholic.!�
�You feel Catholic?�
And hence began my story for Father Bernard. He heard everything, from the death of my older brother to my entering into YWAM up to my shot at The Second City, to moving to Modesto and my strange encounter with the living Christ one October night, to the significance of my name and a possible calling to the priesthood.
My very soul lay before this wise, old man. He listened to it all, and offered two insights. The first was that poverty of soul is truly the greatest poverty, and that the poor came in many forms. The second thought that he shared was one that, surprisingly, I had not given much thought.
�You should pay attention to the second part of your name, �Matthew.��
Matthew. Why had I never bothered to pay attention to this before? Later that day, I looked up the story of his conversion found in his own gospel, and Matthew gives the following detailed account:
�As Jesus was walking on from there he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the tax office, and he said to him, �Follow me.� And he got up and followed him.�
�And he got up and followed him.�
And he got up...
and followed him.
Away from tax collecting, away from the known, away from everything safe, and into something new and unexpected, he followed him.
