The Father and the Son: My Father's Journey into the Monastic Life

This book survived my failure as a book store owner. It is the very last book I own, that was part of the original inventory. And I have just finished reading it for the first time. In putting it down, I am humbled, I am haunted, I am shaken to the very core, that someone outside the Church is capable of writing so profoundly, about what goes on within it, and within the heart and mind of a person who is contemplating (much less accomplishing) monasticism. This book will haunt me to the end of my days in a wonderfully and fearfully, created way. Written by a Wall Street Journalist, about his father, who suddenly decides one day to become a monk, this book is an honest, no-holds barred, no gloves allowed look, at the way in which God often enters peoples lives: suddenly, abruptly, and with no apology. He is the Creator after all. This book is a memoir, a fond remembrance of a boy for his beloved father, who left worldly life to become a monk. In the Roman Catholic tradition. For us Orthodox, our immediate reaction is Oh. How theologically incomplete. And that is an incomplete analysis of one mans journey of faith, as entangled as that is, and can be, without all the trappings of theology. Our theological differences aside: this is the story of a mans journey toward the Truth, which is not just an idea, or an abstract concept. Our Lord said, I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. Our Lord, as theologically confounding as He is, is a Person! A Person who cares bottomlessly for human beings. This is an unforgettable book; a profound and heart wrenching story of one mans pain, and another mans joy. It is about loss, grief, hope, joy, all the things that make human life worth living. For the Orthodox and Roman Catholic alike, I invite you to lay aside all earthly cares and enter in to a family that is torn apart, and healed, by Hope. If you read nothing else this year, I hope you will read this. Leave the theological wrangling at the door where it belongs with our bishops.

I knew Matt Murray in graduate school through mutual friends and was vaguely aware at the time that his father had become a monk. I picked up his book mainly out of curiosity, and a little skepticism, to see if someone I'd known as a college kid could actually be a talented writer. Murray is, indeed, a talented writer, and "The Father and the Son" is a fascinating tale, well-told. It speaks to the relationship between all parents and children: to parents' daunting realization that properly nurturing a child demands almost total sacrifice of self; to children's need to wholly possess their parents in order to feel truly loved. Even in the best circumstances, we can never fully meet our own and our children's needs and can only hope for resilience and forgiveness. Add in a few layers of loss and disappointment, and the task becomes even more complicated. A deep but distant love can't erase all the old hurts, but it does at least beg their forgiveness. At the end of Murray's story, I could do nothing but weep.It is, perhaps, not surprising that this memoir reveals so much about its author and at the same time so little. A writer's skill, a lonely child's protective mechanism. Murray undoubtedly has other tales he could tell about himself and his family, but the one he has given us is a gem.

The Father and the Son is a true and complicated story. Matt has done an extraordinary job sharing his father's singular life, portraying a loving but lonely man evolving over time. The writing is unique, blending a reporter's precision with a collection of voices, ranging from compassionate to sarcastic. Matt traces his father's path from childhood to priesthood, following him through a series of families. The story is often sad and poignant, as a loving son watches his father move on to a new, monastic family. The story is also uplifting, as we gradually appreciate that his father made the right choice, finding fulfillment and peace after a long journey. As an atheist, I was not prepared to appreciate Father James' calling. However, no religious conviction is required - the author himself has wavering beliefs. The portrayal of his father's struggle is compelling, and the resolution of his journey is gratifying, regardless of the reader's (or the author's) personal views. The final chapter is touching and remarkable.I believe this book will appeal to many people, regardless of faith or family history. However, it had special meaning for me. Matt and I became best friends in second grade, and we remain close today. For over a decade, I spent most every day (and many nights) in Jim Murray's house. He took us to countless movies, to amusement parks, and to far-away places. He took me on my first plane trip (to Disney World). He took us to Niagara Falls. I loved Jim Murray like my own father, and later found him equally baffling. Matt and I were best friends during his slow conversion. When Jim sold the house, I spent the day helping them move to a new apartment. When Matt was alone for his first Thanksgiving in college, I went to Evanston. We drove to the monastery to see his dad. The day that Matt's column appeared in the Wall Street Journal, first describing his father's life, Matt was an usher in my wedding. For me, this book was a bittersweet memoir. For other readers, I believe it will be a fascinating and moving story.

My wife, a catholic, and me, a Jew, could not put this book down. The writing is simple and real, the story is on the surface hard to believe, yet as you understand both the Father and the son's motivation, you reach the end of the book before you want it to be over. This could be another Angela's Ashes.

I'm writing through tears brought forth by Matt Murray's moving (and funny) exploration of his relationship with his father and of his father's decision to become a priest and enter a monastery. The inquiry is honest and direct and the writing is clear, precise, and witty. Anyone who wants to know how to approach a relationship with an adult parent can learn from this book. I know, because I am Matt's brother, and in reading this book, I discovered a whole new family for myself.