Writing to Father Courtès about the behavior one of the members of his community:
I am sending to you, my dear Fr. Courtès, the letter for Fr. Sumien that I had no time to write yesterday. I perceive on rereading it that it is a little severe, but it must also be admitted that one has never seen such behavior…
Eugene takes the opportunity to reproach the superior of Aix, Courtès, for not keeping him informed on the community. Each community superior was responsible for steering the ship of his community, but Eugene, as superior general, had an overall map for the direction of the whole Oblate Congregation and needed to ensure that all communities were moving in the same direction. The directions of the universal Oblate “map” were to be found in the Rule of Life.
On this subject, I tell you that it is not permissible to leave me as you have done until now in absolute ignorance of the affairs of your house. One would say that you have no account to render to anyone and that your house is totally exempt. I have under my eyes reports in great detail of the houses of Our Lady of Laus and of Nimes, I dare not admit I know nothing of what is being done at Aix. That is not in order. It is not just a matter of steering the ship properly, you must also show me your chart.
I beg you to reread the Rule on this subject and act in consequence for the peace of your conscience and of mine.
Letter to Hippolyte Courtès, 26 September 1827, EO VII n 282
“A leader is one who knows the way, goes the way, and shows the way.” John C. Maxwell
God calls us to something and then gives us ways and means to live that out and attain what we are working for. I think of the image of the orchestra, capable of making the most beautiful music that will soothe and comfort, excite and enflame and touch all of our senses and the deepest most hidden parts of our being. Each of the musicians in that orchestra coming with their own instrument, their own way of hearing the tune they are going to play from the sheet music before them. All of them playing with different levels of volume and pace. Listen to the symphony as they each ‘warm up’ their instruments and bring them into perfect pitch. The sounds can be discordant, harsh – no two persons playing the same notes. There is no sheet music before them and no conductor. As they practice there may be a note that is slightly ‘off’ and the conductor will hear that and stop all of them to ask what page they are playing from, why is their pace off or the note different from that which the others play. For the conductor it becomes all about what and how each of the instruments is being played, keeping them true to a particular score of music. That conductors with no instrument of their own, there following the score that is before them and as they feel that score, that music come alive pull each of the instruments together, drawing from them, the pace and the purity and joy of that each instrument has to give.
The night of the performance and the conductor comes out and then with his or her back to the audience brings together all of the instruments and the sound, the beautiful gift that is brought forth. It will move some to tears and others to total stillness, it will enflame and fill the senses.
I simply need to be an instrument and to follow where I am being led. And if I am called for a time to step up to the plate to conduct that I will do with all the graces given to me. But when another takes their place I will be called to let go of the baton, to trust and follow their lead. Moments of grace there for all of us.
The image of the conductor – not mine, but rather one shared with me. I must admit though that it has been only this morning that I have been able see all that is involved, the depth and beauty of it.