I know an old Trappist monk who sometimes uses an odd phrase
in talking about people. In
conversation, he’ll refer to someone or other as “a species of genius.” At first, I was amused and a little confused
by the expression. Eventually, I came to
understand that he wasn’t necessarily talking about the person’s intelligence,
but rather about the unique giftedness that the particular individual
possessed. If you or I were sitting with
him, he would see each of us as a species of genius.
My monk friend recognizes that in every person there is a
convergence of genetics, history, experience and temperament that make up the
personal genius of that person. It’s one
reason that every life is so precious and irreplaceable. Maybe this awareness is a Trappist thing –
the fruit of their contemplation. Thomas
Merton once felt overwhelmed by the luminosity of everyone passing by him on a
busy street corner in downtown Louisville.
Of the experience, he wrote, “There is no way of telling people that
they are all walking around shining like the sun.”
We don’t need to be monastic, though, to get occasional epiphanies
of how wondrous the people sharing the “L” car with us or sitting across the
table from us are. Maybe those moments
are glimpses of heaven. They say
spirituality is matter of waking up to reality.
How would it change my relationships if I were to see others as the
species of genius that they are?