Here’s an old story I once read. I can’t remember where I first read it. But if someone wants to claim as their own story, I’ll be happy to give them credit. I use this story sometimes in presentations, and this is my own rendition based on memory:

The Dying Monastery

There’s an old story told about about an old monastery filled with old and dying monks. One day the small group of remaining monks met to discuss the decrepit state of their community. In a few years, they would all die and the once thriving prayerful, community would be gone. As they discussed this dilemma, one monk offered a rather unorthodox idea.

He suggested they contact an old Rabbi who lived in the next village. This old Rabbi was renowned for his wisdom, and people traveled great distances to come sit at his feet. The monk suggested that this Rabbi might offer wise words that could bring life to this struggling community.

In an act of desperation, the other monks agreed to this request. They wrote a long letter, detailing the decline of this monastery and the current state of the broken community. Having dispatched the letter, the community took up their daily prayers while awaiting his response.

After several days, a young man appeared at the old wooden doors of the outer wall to the monastery with a note from the Rabbi. The whole community anxiously gathered round the young man, as they read the note aloud. The note contained no plan of action, no steps to renewal, no lengthy treatise.

It contained six simple words, “The Messiah has returned among you.” As the monks read the note, they were both delighted and shocked. Who? Which one is the Messiah? As they prayed and contemplated that evening, each monk wondered who could be the Messiah? With no clear answer from the Lord, each monk arose the next day and begin treating all the other monks as though each of them was the Messiah.

This quiet community of prayer of contemplation began to bustle with monks serving each other. From kind words to daily acts of service, they devoted themselves to serving.

And something very strange happened.

They began to feel younger. And younger. And younger still. One Saturday morning, a couple monks walked down to the field below the monastery to throw ball like two young boys. Soon the other monks joined in the fun and game began. They were laughing and playing so loud that people from the community came to hear what was the commotion.

The atmosphere was contagious and suddenly the game expanded to a mixture of monks and people from the community. Everyone laughed and talked and played until late in the day. After such a delightful time, the monks planned another day to spend playing among the people in the community. And then another day. And another day.

Within a few months, the rabbi’s words transformed this decrepit community into a living, vibrant community of young and old people, learning how to serve and love one another in the grace of God.

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