A Good Place to Lose Your Mind

A Good Place to Lose Your Mind One of our monks, let’s call him Fr. Stan, wasn’t an eloquent preacher at the best of times. He had been married—he returned home one day to find his wife had taken the kids and left without warning or explanation—and came to the monastery later in life. As he developed Alzheimer’s disease, his homilies became even more rambling and disconnected. Once, after an especially disjointed homily that ran on and on, some of the brothers complained to the abbot, who tho...