St Benedict, one of the patrons of Europe was a man who grew up in material wealth, with a good education, and all the advantages to succeed in the society of his place and time. At some point, around the age of twenty, he looked around at all the excesses all around him and chose an alternative path. He had a vision of what it meant to live in accordance with the Gospel. He did not set out to invent monasticism—it already existed. He added his own focus and energy to reforming what he experienced. He simply saw the need to follow Christ—in all its joy and pain. For Benedict, this meant giving up the wealth and privilege that being a son of nobility provided. It meant living in a cave for three years, listening to the voice of God keep him up every night, and then putting up with the antics of twelve housefuls of sometimes harmonious, sometimes very difficult men. It meant working on a rule of life for people who surely did not always realize what they had signed up for, for the sake of creating places in that valley in Italy where God's love would be the rule of life. For us, it means different things: learning to live with Covid-19. Perhaps biting your tongue at work; perhaps speaking out when someone is treating someone else unjustly. Perhaps moving across the country for an opportunity that you are excited about and frightfully unsure of. Maybe going out for coffee with someone you never thought you would give the time of day to. All of these mean stepping into the unknown. God is in all of these places. I cannot tell anyone what to risk or how to choose, especially through these harsh times caused by a pandemic. We all come from different circumstances. Our lives give us different opportunities.

As we work together for the common good, we need to see how do we make our choices? Where are our quiet places? Where is the voice of God, for each of us? As we move forward. and out of this international disaster, we see the wisdom of Benedict and his adaptability. We will need that sense of openness as we move on—the Rule was never meant to be a straitjacket. The one who follows this Rule is a disciple, always alert to the word of God: they must therefore be humble and attentive, ready to greet Christ in the stranger or serve him in the old, the young, the sick. In fact, anyone they might meet. Radical hospitality must be a hallmark of the Church: we can never be ecclesiastical bouncers deciding, in our arrogance, who is acceptable to receive the love of God. Purity of heart, as the monastic tradition understands it, prepares us for a closer union with God. The whole point of monastic life is to prepare us for that union and lead us to it. That is why Benedict speaks of searching for God in the school of the Lord's service. In moving forward, we have to continue that search, aware that so many are hurting. While so many have been able to find God in these past few years, others have wondered how a God of love could allow such pain. We cannot shy away from such difficult questions—we need to face them, and not offer trite words to those in deep pain. Sometimes words cannot express our feelings, but that spirit of Benedictine hospitality must continue to be central. In that simple action of unconditional welcome, we feel accepted for who we are. In that simple action, we bask in the love of God, as the Rule reminds us:

Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ, for He is going to say, "I came as a guest, and you received Me" (Matt. 25:35). And to all let due honour be shown, especially to the domestics of the faith and to pilgrims…. In the reception of the poor and of pilgrims the greatest care and solicitude should be shown, because it is especially in them that Christ is received; for as far as the rich are concerned, the very fear which they inspire wins respect for them. (from 'The Rule of Benedict')

Kindness lies at the heart of the Christian gospel and is central to Islam, Judaism and all the world's religions. While Jesus reminds of the centrality of love in every instance, the Quran makes it very clear:

Help one another in acts of piety and righteousness. And do not assist each other in acts of sinfulness and transgression. (Quran 5:2)

In my much-loved retreat work with young people, I enjoy the programme based around the 2007 film 'Evan Almighty.' Evan Baxter (Steve Carell)—Bruce's scene-stealing news anchor rival from the film 'Bruce Almighty'—is the focus of God's attention. When the film opens, Evan has just been elected congressman and is leaving the TV business behind to move his family to a new life in Virginia. All is going well in this new life until God shows up and asks Evan to build an ark. Like the prophets of old, Evan tries to hide from God and ignore the demand; however, God, played with great gravitas by Morgan Freeman, keeps working away at him. Eventually he works with God and the huge ark is built in the garden of his posh suburban neighbourhood, to both the horror and amusement of family, colleagues and friends. Everybody thinks Evan is going mad, including his family, who pretty much leaves him on his own. Yet Evan, like Noah, persists in obedience, no matter the consequences-even when it appears he'll lose everything. Without spoiling the fun and games of the film, the happy ending sees Evan realising that it is the ARK that will save the world, God shows Evan that he must see beyond the flood, the animals and the wooden boat to see what A.R.K. actually stands for Acts of Random Kindness. The challenge for the children is to bring that kindness to their homes and classrooms by random actions of care. It does not have to be over the top, it can be something as simple as sharing a smile, as the Letter to the Hebrews says:

Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it. (Heb 13:2)

Hospitality is so important, and I give thanks for all those times I have received a welcome into countless homes during the course of ministry: from invitations to share a birthday party to a simple 'cheeky cuppa!' The kindness shown in that act of kindness can never be quantified, but it does mean acceptance and a recognition of our equality before God as we share pizza or cake. Jesus went out of his way to share that kindness of acceptance and hospitality. He shared meals, festivals and weddings with anyone who invited him; even people did not have enough food were given more than enough. The Cana miracle of water into the best vintage wine again shows that overwhelming kindness of Jesus. He reached out to those who did not normally merit hospitality in the first century Palestinian world: the lepers, the crippled, children and the marginalised. Unconditional love means exactly that: we love without counting the cost or the implications-we see a need and we respond, as the prayer of St Ignatius reminds us:

Dearest Lord, teach me to be generous. Teach me to serve you as you deserve; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labour and ask not for reward, save that of knowing that I do your most holy will.

The tragedy of our world is that there will still be those who can never respond to your kindness or your outreach. Try as you might, they are so caught up in their feelings that they distrust outreach-they infer false motives, and they will never recognise the gift of kindness shown to them. It is all too easy to give up on such folk and leave them to their narcissism and selfishness. If they will not accept your kindness, then I hope they will accept your prayers for them. Even if they still remain deep in their own cares, you can STILL pray for them-remember that Jesus challenges us to LOVE even our enemies, he says nothing about LIKING them.

The time of pandemic has given us so many opportunities to show kindness: from clapping for the NHS to grocery shopping for a neighbour who is shielding. Even though the news in currently positive about the needed vaccine, we will need to hop on that ARK over the coming months. We can really concentrate on those acts of random kindness that will brighten someone's day. You can be the bringer of peace, hope, joy and deep love. Today your kindness can make a difference; I urge you to take this prayer from the Celtic tradition and make it yours today:

This morning, as I kindle the fire on my hearth,

I pray that the flame of God's love may burn in

my heart and in the hearts of all I meet today.

I pray that no envy or malice,

no hatred or fear, may smother the flame.

I pray that indifference and apathy, contempt and pride,

may not pour like cold water on the fire.

Instead, may the spark of God's love

light the love in my heart,

that it may burn brightly through the day.

And may I warm those who are lonely,

whose hearts are cold and lifeless,

so that all may know the comfort of God's love.

(Eknath Easwaran)

I thank God those many friends and family who have shown me unconditional kindness-it will never be forgotten. Today we reach out to those on a 'bridge of kindness'; so often Pope Francis talks of building bridges, while other leaders prefer to build walls. By reaching out to others, we discover the richness of true friendship and care. Go on, take a risk, remembering that 'love can build a bridge.'

I'd gladly walk across the desert

With no shoes upon my feet

To share with you the last bite

Of bread i had to eat

I would swim out to save you

In your sea of broken dreams

When all your hopes are sinkin'

Let me show you what love means

Love can build a bridge

Between your heart and mine

Love can build a bridge

Don't you think it's time?

Don't you think it's time?

(written by Naomi Judd, Paul Overstreet and John Barlow Jarvis)

The real beauty of the gift of kindness is that it has no expiration date-it is time to show that kindness; don't you think it's time?

Author: Fr Gerry O'Shaughnessy SDB

Photo by CHUTTERSNAP on Unsplash