Theophane, a Cistern monk, relates this story:
“I saw a monk working alone in the vegetable garden.
I squatted down beside him and said, “Brother, what is your dream?”
He just looked straight at me. What a beautiful face he had.
“I would like to become a monk.” he answered
“But Brother, you are a monk aren’t you?”
“I’ve been here for 2 years but I still carry a gun” he drew a revolver from the holster under his robe.
It looked so strange, a monk carrying a gun.
“And they won’t, are you saying they won’t let you become a monk until you give up your gun?”
“No, it’s not that. Most of them don’t even know I have it, but I know.”
“Well then, why don’t you give it up”.
I guess I have had it so long. I’ve been hurt a lot and I’ve hurt a lot of others. I don’t think I would be comfortable without this gun.”
“But you seem pretty uncomfortable with it.”
“Yes, pretty uncomfortable, but I have my dream.”
“Why don’t you give me the gun?” I whispered.
I was beginning to tremble.
He did, he gave it to me. His tears ran down to the ground and then he embraced me.
Most of us have a gun, some way of protecting ourselves and making ourselves feel safe, hidden under the robe of our persona.
Are we too comfortable with it to hear God whispering, “Why don’t you give me the gun?”
Will we hand it over and let our tears run to the ground?