What Carmel Means to Me
Carmel means first and foremost service; first and foremost fraternity; and first and foremost prayer.
SERVICE FOREMOST, because the first Carmelite I met had come to my parish to help out with the
masses on Sundays. And the next Carmelite I met taught me physics. And then the next Carmelite I
met directed my senior year retreat in high school. Through their varied ministries, I first encountered
Carmel. Right when I needed it most, Carmel appeared in the desert of my adolescence, right when I had
lost almost all faith in God. In the physics class I again began to believe that there was in fact a God. On
retreat, I came to believe that this God believed in me too and took a personal interest in my small life.
And then at my parish a certain Carmelite saw something in me I did not see myself and took the time to
talk to me about the priesthood. Time. That's what Carmel meant to me then. Taking time to serve with
love and care, no matter the ministry. So when I got the chance to see the Carmelites in Washington,
D.C., I took it.
FRATERNITY FOREMOST, because in DC, I saw that fraternity came first. I felt it there, the first night,
when Carmelites I had just met made me feel right at home. You can't just walk into a Carmelite
community and really tell who's who. Postulant and prior alike wash the dishes after dinner. I
remember being so struck by the prior who stood up when he had finished with his meal, and cleared
everyone else's plate along with his own. Or maybe it was the friar who led prayer, or rather, the friar
who didn't lead prayer. I assumed in chapel that the friar leading prayer also led the community as its
superior, or prior, as the Carmelites say. No, I found out later, the friar leading prayer was a student,
and the prior, at that moment, was just one voice among many, one among his brothers. And all alike
sometimes sit gathered together in the common areas long after dinner's over, talking (even singing) for
hours. On Christmas we sang, and the visiting Carmelite sister from Africa pulled out a guitar and sang
us “Flower of Carmel,” which had never sounded so beautiful. That's what Carmel means to me, that
Christmas gathering, and its warmth and light and laughter and song.
PRAYER FOREMOST, because that night we prayed. Which means more singing and also listening and
reading but finally silence. At the end of prayer we sit in silence, because, on Carmel, you find God in the
sheer silence. It's just like that passage in the Bible from 1 Kings 19: the holy Prophet Elijah is listening
for the LORD on the mountain of God in the desert. A wind passes, but God is not in the wind. An
earthquake, but God is not in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire, but God is not in the fire. But
after the fire, a sound of sheer silence.
In the desert I have found a mountain, where I have gone to listen for the Silence, which means
everything to me. Come and listen too.
Peace!
Matthew Gummess