Afternoon Hours with Father Basil

“Next time I will play the organ for you,” whispered Father Basil after leading me into Westminster Abbey’s church. He rolled back the cover from the keys. Brother Peter had restored this organ using ivory from an old elephant tusk. Across from us, a young monk was praying—oblivious, it seemed, to our presence. Elsewhere on the grounds, thirty-two other monks were fulfilling their tasks, from tending livestock to updating websites. Looking down the nave at the stone altar, I realized that if the power were cut, things would be much the same here as they had been ages ago in Monte Cassino. These men would still live under the same Rule and take part in the same daily routine. They would be serving the same Lord and seeking the same reward. This was Being from floor to ceiling, and there was something very comforting in it. If only Becoming weren’t so damn tempting.