A Tale of Two Thomases

On this day in 1968, the great Trappist monk and writer Thomas Merton died. Despite his valuable spiritual writings, including The Seven Storey Mountain and New Seeds of Contemplation, and the Christian virtue with which he lived his life, the Church will never name him a saint.

To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that Love is the reason for my existence, for God is love.

Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name.

(Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation)

Why? It has much to do with the end of his life.

During his last years, he became deeply interested in Asian religions, particularly Zen Buddhism, and in promoting East-West dialogue. After several meetings with Merton during the American monk’s trip to the Far East in 1968, the Dalai Lama praised him as having a more profound understanding of Buddhism than any other Christian he had known.

It was during this trip to a conference on East-West monastic dialogue that Merton died, in Bangkok on December 10, 1968, the victim of an accidental electrocution.

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There is a sneaking suspicion amongst some circles that Merton “went native” and actually became a Buddhist. The data supporting this are mixed to say the least.

But where there is a shred of doubt, the Church must refrain from canonisation. This is a wise policy, and has very little to say of his ultimate fate. It certainly does not prevent us from reading Merton, or at least his early, clearly orthodox works, with profit and pleasure.

I would not hesitate to recommend several of his works. In particular, his monumental autobiography The Seven Storey Mountain is practically Augustinian in scope and style.

New Seeds of Contemplation and Thoughts In Solitude are also very good, but for very different reasons.

Contradictions have always existed in the soul of [individuals]. But it is only when we prefer analysis to silence that they become a constant and insoluble problem.

We are not meant to resolve all contradictions but to live with them and rise above them and see them in the light of exterior and objective values which make them trivial by comparison.

(Thomas Merton, Thoughts In Solitude)

The fate of Thomas Merton’s cause is not unique by any means.

The most popular work of Christian literature after the Bible is no doubt The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis.

Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility, for it thinks all things are lawful for itself and all things are possible.

(Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ)

Like the other Thomas, Thomas à Kempis was a writer and a religious. Being a canon in the time before printed Bibles were commonly available, he was also a copyist. By the time he died in 1471, he had written out four copies of the Bible, not to mention authoring his own works, including a series of prayers, meditations, and biographies.

By far his most famous work, however, was The Imitation of Christ. It was a late Medieval bestseller. It remains, other than the Bible, the most read, most published, and most translated work of Christian devotion in history.

Thomas did not even sign his name to it. That was left to his friends and fellow canons, who cheerfully identified him as the author.

He led a famously holy and modest life, and you’d think he’d be a shoe-in for canonization. In fact, two attempts have been made to canonize Thomas, in 1655 and 1911. Alas! It will never happen.

Like Thomas Merton, there was a little issue with the end of his life.

He was apparently (accidentally) buried alive, in that splinters were later found embedded under the fingernails of his corpse. He was denied canonization on the grounds that a saint would not fight death this way.

(source)

When a body is found that shows signs of having been alive after burial, any canonization process ends due to the possibility of despair on the part of the deceased.

Did Thomas despair? We can’t really know, but there is an understandable doubt. Where there is doubt, there can be no canonization.

Again, this has very little to say of Thomas’ ultimate fate. It certainly does not prevent us from reading his books with profit and pleasure.

Jesus has now many lovers of the heavenly kingdom but few bearers of His cross.

(Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ)

Let us pray for the souls of these two men, these writers named Thomas, who have each led untold numbers of people to the love of Christ.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.

May the souls of the faithful departed,
through the mercy of God,
rest in peace.

Amen.