On June 24th, much of God's church commemorates the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist and that has given me extra reason to contemplate the legacy of the Baptist. I say "extra reason" because we monks hold St. John the Baptist in a very special place in our hearts. The Baptist, of course, was the great forerunner of Jesus the Christ and, as such, called people to a life of simplicity and conversion. That is a call that all monastics attempt to live into each day. It is a call that many Christians respond to quite deeply as they live into their particular vocations.

Each morning here in the monastery, and in most throughout the world, the "Benedictus" is prayed toward the end of our morning Office (the recitation of the psalms and other prayers from the Scriptures). The Benedictus is the Latin word for the prayer/prophecy that John's father, Zechariah, proclaims at his birth. This is taken from Luke 1:67-79 in which Zechariah, "filled with the Holy Spirit" speaks a "prophecy" that begins: "Blessed be the Lord God of Israel." In the first section of the prayer, Zechariah addresses himself to God. The second section contains the prophecy, beginning with verse 76, where Zechariah addresses himself directly to the newly born John. The translation we use reads as follows:

And you child shall be called the prophet of the Most High
for you will go before the Lord to prepare the way
to give God's people knowledge of salvation
by the forgiveness of their sins.
In the tender compassion of our God,
the dawn from on High shall break upon us.
To shine on those who dwell in darkness
and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

While Zechariah was speaking of his newly born child, John, it has always seemed to me that this prophecy was a call to all of us to "prepare the way" for the Most High. By our life, our prayer, and our work, it seems to me that we are to give knowledge of God's salvation to all of God's people by, in part, forgiving their sins. The Baptist is remembered for his call to repentance. And, yes, we should remind people of their need to repent when appropriate. But it occurs to me that in order to model the "tender compassion of our God" we ought to be in the business of repenting ourselves and of forgiving others of their sins. Those sins might be of a personal nature--anything from petty hurts and slights, to major breaches of relationship. They might also be sins committed on a more global scale. Our world dwells in the darkness of religious zealotry of all types. What if we were to allow "the dawn to break upon us" by forgiving those we deem to be religious zealots, for example? Imagine a peaceful revolution--on a global scale--that we could begin to engage in before the sun goes down? What would that forgiveness look like?

Forgiveness, remember, is not a feeling. It is an action. It is making a conscious effort to release anger, animosity and hatred that might be held in our hearts toward a particular person or people; it is not wishing them harm. It is making an effort to open lines of communication with them in order to foster dialog and to discover what commonalities of belief and practice might be found. It is not glossing over our differences, rather it is finding a way to speak our truth in a manner that is loving and compassionate. It is, ultimately, the practice of enormous patience; it is praying and hoping for their well-being.

Perhaps this month, in memory of St. John the Baptist, each of us can find it in our hearts to forgive a religious zealot--or at least someone that we think is a religious zealot. Keep in mind that the Baptist was murdered because he was thought to be a religious zealot. Zealots come in all forms--every religious tradition has them and we ought not allow zealotry to control the global dialogue around issues of faith, non-violence and peace. People we assume to be zealots live in our own neighborhoods as well as half way around the world. Is there someone, or some church, synagogue, mosque, or some other group, that you view with great suspicion or fear, that you or your church can reach out to in order to begin the process of conversion which, most likely, both you and they need? Don't you think that would open us to allow God to "guide our feet into the way of peace?" Pax.