When I turned 30, I decided that I wanted to complete a triathlon. One problem: I did not know how to swim. I wasn’t scared of the water and I could stay afloat, but the most fruitful results of my childhood swim lessons were a goofy-looking breast stroke that didn’t involve putting my head under the water and a “little bird, big bird, fly.” The latter was basically laying on my back, flapping my arms, and propelling myself (slowly) through the water. These were not the ways of a triathlete.
According to Saint Benedict, “The life of a monastic ought to be a continuous Lent.” However, what Benedict presents is life as a continuous Advent. We can confidently stand ready and raise our heads because our redemption is at hand.
