The great thing about being a Monk-in-Training (well, at least I am one in my head – I’m told it takes 10 years and I’m only in month 4 so…..I got some time to work on some things), is that there’s a lot of ascetic discipline in the history. There’s fasting and prayers and chants and service work. It’s got everything one needs in re-establishing personal discipline.

For me, my monk journey started at Luther Memorial Church, which is an amazing Chicago church located in the heart of GermanTown. I could go on about why this church is beauty in proportion, but that is for another post.

The challenge with being a monk is in the solitude. I find great peace in meditating/praying for hours throughout the day. It helps me harmonize my head with my mind. I frequently speak with God, who in my mind is some old mechanic who squints when he winks, like he knows someone or something. It’s annoying and bit rude, to be honest.

That said, the Guy knows some stuff and but at times I think I know God a bit better than He knows Himself. Or rather, I think I can gleam some of His designs – He’s got a pattern, you see? If you look at history, can compare things, it feels like a rhyme to a familiar toon.  I know that’s irreverent, but I have a theory that God likes free will and God likes nudges to make sure we re-learn some values we neglected and perhaps some ones we never perfected.

What I enjoy in training to be an American Lutheran monk is that it’s a bit of a start-up scene. The order is still forming. There must have been on monk, 1000 years ago, that recommended tonsure haircuts. That is probably that longest-last, most-seen joke that has been going on for centuries. I think if I can get in on the ground floor, I can one day be a Lutheran monk that recommends a secret handshake. Unfortunately, secret handshakes that are well known aren’t too secret, so I’ll have to laugh in the shadows.

There is also a direct tie-in from my Recovery experiences with AA – which was founded by a Lutheran Minister named Bill.  I don’t know Bill, but he seemed like a guy desperate to change the world for the better by helping broken men and women who were coping with addiction. I don’t know what better way to serve your neighbors than to be able to walk with them through their struggles. If I still drank, I’d toast Bill. Or shake his hand with a authentic “Thank You.” He’d probably like that better.

I hope you well, my reader. I will say a prayer tonight for you.