I listened to Kathleen Norris’s book The Cloister Walk this week. Fascinating.

A highlight was Chapter 13, an honest look at her 10 years of relationships with celibate men and women.

In them the strengths of celibacy have somehow been transformed into an openness that attracts people of all ages, all social classes. They exude a sense of freedom.

She acknowledges her own struggle to understand how this can be, yet rejects culture’s prejudice take on reasons for celibacy.

As celibacy takes hold in a person over the years, as monastic values supersede the values of the culture outside the monastery, celibates become people who can radically assess those of us out in the world, if only because they’ve learned how to listen without possessiveness, without imposing themselves. With someone who is practicing celibacy well, we may sense that we are being listened to in a refreshingly deep way. And this is the purpose of celibacy. Not to obtain an impossibly cerebral goal mistakenly conceived as holiness, but to make oneself available to others, body and soul. Celibacy, simply put, is a form of ministry.

Natural tendency is to reject what we don’t understand or aren’t willing to be open to accept as necessary.

Ministry is a choice.

Availability is a choice.

Listening is a choice.

Our obedience to God’s choices for us won’t always be understood or accepted by others. Jesus actually told us to expect this to happen, to follow calling, to be about the Father’s work.

It’s necessary for transformation, for freedom.

Be strong in your obedience. Your body and soul will thank you. So will other’s.

Photo by Nikhil Singh on Unsplash