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"Only You, Lord... for Everyone"

Rev. Bernard McCoy, O.Cist. ('88)
Superior, Abbey of Our Lady of Spring Bank in Sparta, Wisconsin

(Spring 2008 Newsletter)

Excerpts from an Address to Governors of the College, Faculty, and Students 2007 Board of Governors Retreat

Introduction by President Thomas Dillon

J-Vann McCoy was born and raised in North Carolina. He studied astrophysics at the Georgia Institute of Technology before coming to Thomas Aquinas College. Here, he found his Catholic faith and his vocation to the priesthood. After graduation, he entered the Cistercian seminary of Hauterive in Fribourg, Switzerland, and was ordained in 1995.

Fr. Bernard is now a contemplative monk and the superior of the Abbey of Our Lady of Spring Bank in Sparta, Wisconsin. An entrepreneur by nature, he is also the founder and CEO of his abbey's primary means of support: LaserMonks.com, one of the largest and most successful office retailers in the country. This growing company supports not only the monks of the abbey but also its charitable works, from scholarships for young people pursuing vocations, to aid to Native American schools and missions, to funding for a school in Vietnam that trains street kids in the use of office software.

Fr. Bernard and LaserMonks.com have been featured by CNN, ABC World News Tonight with Peter Jennings, Reuters, USA Today, Entrepreneur Magazine, National Public Radio, Zenit, the National Catholic Register, and EWTN. I have invited him to speak tonight, though, not simply for his successes as an entrepreneur, but for his holiness and faithfulness and his appreciation for the mission of Thomas Aquinas College and the good that it does.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen; it's a real pleasure to be here.

There were a few tears in my eyes as I drove over to the campus this evening because there is a lot more here than when I was a student. You students have it easy; you know, we had to walk both ways uphill with no shoes in the rain and snow, but you, young folks, you have it easy here.

Lost

Twenty years ago, I was sitting on a park bench on the grounds of a Georgia university campus. I was coming back from a frat party after, perhaps, a few too many drinks. Looking over the Atlanta skyline, I started to cry—and I'm not a crying kind of guy.

I wasn't particularly religious at the time, but I was so lost that night that I prayed to God saying, "I don''t know where I am supposed to be, what I am supposed to do, or where I am supposed to go; but somehow I want to try to use what gifts I've got, even my weaknesses, to try to do some good with the rest of my life. You'd better show me where I am supposed to go and what I am supposed to do." Little did I know how that would turn out.

I started looking around for something else because I hated where I was. I found a list of the ten smallest colleges in the United States, and I said to myself, "These are great; I've got to know what they are." Among them was a little place called Thomas Aquinas College. Since I had never been past the Mississippi, anything in California seemed strange and weird, but I looked at the review of the College and was impressed with its curriculum. Something attracted me to it.

This was in August (I was enrolled in the summer semester), just before the new academic year was to begin. Nevertheless, I called and talked to the Director of Admissions, Tom Susanka, and he said he would send some information.

Mayberry R.F.D.

Let's stop there and back up just a second….Has anyone here ever seen the Andy Griffith Show? Well, I'm from North Carolina, from a little town called Mayberry, R.F.D.—the real town. My mom grew up with Andy and chased him around the soda fountain at sixteen; my dad grew up two doors down. I grew up as a kind of wishy-washy Methodist in this small Southern town.

I quit high school at 16 and went to a highly-respected technical university in Georgia to study astrophysics. In the midst of that, before I ended up as a drunken frat kid on the park bench, I attended a gala with my big brother who lived in Atlanta and moved in the upper echelons. We were in tails and tux and such, and during the event this big fellow comes up to me. He was about 6'6" tall, in a dark pinstripe suit, wing tips, and so on. He said to me, "Young man, I understand you're not real happy with what you're doing. Have you ever considered studying international law and finance?" I said, "No, but why do you ask?" He said "Well, I'll tell you what: I know your brother, and he says you're a good kid and seem to be kind of a bright fellow. We'll take care of things. We'll send you to the University of Chicago, or wherever you want to go. We'll take care of the tuition. We'll give you an apartment, a car, and spending money." I told him, "That's a very nice offer. I'll think about it."

I checked with my brother later, and he said, "Everything he tells you is true, very true. In many ways, he's a good man, and we do a lot of good things together. We go to the opera, and we do a lot of charitable works together. But there's something you need to keep in mind, little brother....there's some fine print to this contract. He's, well....he's the head of the largest mob family in the South, and there's a little more than meets the eye here." That was enough for me!

Admission to the College

I received the admissions information from Tom Susanka just a week before my final exams, and I noticed the envelope right away because it had an image in the return address area of St. Thomas teaching the five proofs for God's existence to a small group. I was late for class, so I grabbed it thinking, "Oh, I've got that information from that funny college," and ran. I came in the back door, a little late, and the professor was coming in late, too. This happened to be one of those introduction to philosophy courses. He sets his books down, and I set my books down-with this funny envelope on top. He says, "I've decided to change my curriculum for the next three weeks." Alright. "I think," he continues," that I'm going to teach you about St. Thomas Aquinas and the five proofs for God's existence." Wow.

To make a long story short, my admission to Thomas Aquinas College was somewhat unusual. I wrote all the essays in 24 hours, sent them out by overnight mail, and took my final exam in calculus the day after. On the way to the exam, I called from the library payphone to see if they had received my information. The response was, "Well... yes.... umm... why as a matter of fact we did, and while the incoming class of freshmen happens to be full, we called a kind of an emergency meeting of the admissions council and we decided to accept you, by exception."

I was upset. I was upset, and my mouth opened. I couldn't believe it. Now, this is important, because it has to do with what comes later. I was upset because it was one of those things: I knew if I was accepted, I had to go, because I would kick myself the rest of my life. I just knew that there was something right and something good about whatever it was they were doing at Thomas Aquinas College.

But I had to take my exam. When I came back, I literally emptied my room into my car, got into it, and drove to California.

"We're All Catholic Here"

Within two months I had fallen in love with the education here. One day, this little old man who lived here on the campus—the College chaplain, it turned out—came up to me at Sunday brunch. Old Monsignor Gallagher (God rest him) comes up behind me. He still had this Irish muscle to him, and he grabbed me and a couple of other folks and said "Weelllll now, I hear y'er not bein' Catholic. Would ye like to come up and study the Catechism with me?" I said "Well, I don't know sir....What's a Catechism?" "Ohhh, just to learn a little bit about the Catholic faith." "Well, okay." I'm a nice Southern gentleman, I grew up in a nice Southern family, and I had to be genteel and kind. "Oh yes, I'll come and visit you, sir."

Well, from that moment, things happened quickly. By early in the second semester of my freshman year, it was very clear that it was time for me to make some changes. One day, I was taking a walk, and a car drove up with these two older couples in it, and the driver rolled the window down and says, "'Scuse me young man, but do your caretakers live here? We're Jehovah Witnesses, and we'd like to speak with them." And I said, "Well... ma'am....well, you know, I'm sorry, but we're basically all Catholic here, and you're probably not going to find any people interested." She said "Well, okay....Fine," and rolled the window back up. After they left, I walked about a hundred feet away. Then it struck me: "Whoa.... wait a minute..... 'We're all Catholic here….!'" Right then, I wandered up to the little trailer at the top of the hill, knocked on the door, and said "Well, Monsignor, now where do I sign?"

I converted on Ash Wednesday, and within a month, I knew in some strange way that I had a vocation to the priesthood, that whatever it was that was going on behind that altar in that little chapel, that was what reality really is, and that's what it's all about.

An Intellectual Assent

I would call this an intellectual conversion. After talking to the Jehovah's Witnesses, I said to myself, "You know, even if I leave here right now, I can't believe anything else than what I've come to understand here." It was largely intellectual, an assent, if you will, to the intellectual truths around me, from reading Aristotle, the Bible, and all kinds of things. It made sense. I had grown up thinking I was going to be a scientist with a BMW and a hot tub, but on that park bench I just knew there had to be more. I came here and found that there is indeed much more to be had.

What I found at the College was the ability to learn—not only to think, to debate, to argue, but to look for truth at its core. Not only did that distinguish everyone I was with here, but when I left, people that I met would ask, "Where did you go to school?" They noticed in me what we all do: ask hard questions, be unemotional about them, discuss them. For instance, we'll say, "What about this, or this, or this?" or "That doesn't follow." Or again, "Yes, but the author didn't actually say that; he said this. I read that." Yes, I read that, and read this, and read this, and this, and this.…and people can't believe this.

Seeking the Good of Another

My time here at the College was exceptional. It was the budding and seed of my own faith and service to God. One of the most important things I learned was from St. Thomas, his definition of love in his treatise on charity: to seek the good of the other. You don't have to like someone to love them.

That's important to think about—to love your enemies and seek their good in whatever ways it takes doesn't mean you have to like what you're doing. The truth is, you can seek the good of your best friend even if you're angry with him right now. St. Thomas teaches much the same thing in a similar treatise, where beatitude is defined as friendship with God.

This is what I found was starting to move me within, this desire to seek the good of another. That's a real sign of charity in one's life, the real acid test for where we are, where we're going, and where we hope to be at some point.

When I graduated from the College, I started looking around for where in the world I was supposed to go. In the meantime, I lined up a job working at the Ojai Valley School for a year to pay off some debts. Before starting, I went home and bought a new convertible and some nice clothes. I was ready to come back to my job here, but I stopped for a visit at a monastery in Sparta, Wisconsin, on the way.

This monastery had almost nothing to invite a young man: it was located on an old farm with an old trailer for a chapel. Yet, this was not unlike the campus I had just left. It, too, was a pioneer situation, and there was something true and very good going on there. My experience at the College, a kind of Catholic oasis, fit very much with the life of this monastery, where monks spend four to five hours a day in Gregorian Chant, in prayer. It is a relatively traditional place in a lot of senses. So, it seemed natural for me to go.

But the reason you go is not the reason you stay; God had further plans for me. What is important to see is that I had made this intellectual assent here at the College, with a conversion of understanding, and a turn to the truth. What had still to happen was the conversion of the heart.

Learning how to Love and Be Loved

I was very much an outgoing, extraverted, skill-building, typical American male when I entered Thomas Aquinas College as a freshman. I was an international scuba-diver, I was a pilot (I still am; in fact, I'm a member of the International Association of Priest Pilots, believe it or not.) I'm a trumpeter, French hornist, flutist, actor, and a computer language buff. I was just into everything.

What I discovered though, is that all these were extra skills. Ultimately, what had to be developed was learning how to love and to be loved—seeking the good of another and, at the same time, welcoming the good toward oneself from others. All of that had to start developing in a conversion of the heart, if you will.

When I joined the Cistercians, I was shipped off almost immediately to Europe for studies, to Fribourg, Switzerland. I didn't know it at the time, but the university I studied at is probably the top university for Dominicans in the world. The now Cardinal-Archbishop of Vienna, Christoph Cardinal Schönborn, was there as a history professor when I was there. Many master theologians of the Order at that time were my professors. I had the best of the best as far as Thomistic tradition.

St. Bernard is the Cistercian's primary saint, a Doctor of the Church. St. Thomas Aquinas died in a Cistercian monastery, at Fossanova in Italy. We all know the story of how when he was dying he said everything he wrote was as straw. The brothers there were saying, "Please, tell us about the Song of Songs," and he said, "No. Go to Bernard; he said it all, and I can tell you no more." So you see, there was a close connection between the Dominicans and the Cistercians. In fact, in the refectory in the Dominican students' house there in Fribourg where I studied, there is a giant 15th century mural that depicts Cistercians and Dominicans having a meal together.

At Fribourg, I studied St. Thomas and lived the monastic life. It was a hard year. Everything had to be in French. I went there with no French, and within only one year had to end up passing Licentiate exams. There was intellectual formation that was intense, to be sure, but at the same time there was something important going on in the heart—learning how to love and to be loved.

The retired abbot general said to me when I first started my studies. "Brother Bernard," he said, "You're going to study about God. But don't forget—and most theologians today do—don't forget, it's not about God; it's the time you spend with God." How much time do we study, think about, work for God, as opposed to spending time with Him? That stuck with me, and it's something I think is important. There is an intimacy we're supposed to have with God, just like one would have with a friend. It's one thing to talk about your friend, or hear about him, or read a book about him, but what about spending some time with him? That's what life is all about. Keep that with you.

LaserMonks.com: Putting Food on the Table

When I came back to my abbey in 1995, I had all this esoteric knowledge in mystical theology, in psycho-spiritual development, all kinds of things like that. But I was made steward of temporal affairs and told, "The monks have this nasty habit of wanting to eat at least twice a day. Please put food on the table." So suddenly I was engaged in finding money to support the monastery as well as build a new wing for it.

To do this, we started a number of projects—I won't go into all of them—but among them were five-star golf course developments, real estate developments, raising shitake mushrooms—all kinds of stuff.

Then one day, my printer ran out of toner and I thought, "This is way too expensive for a bunch of black dust. There's got to be a better way." And from that came a little company that's called LaserMonks.com. We started in 2001 with annual sales of $2,000, and now we're one of the largest office retailers in the country, offering everything that OfficeMax, Office Depot, Staples, and Corporate Express do-about 45,000 products, at the same price or better. And we'll give you a spiritual rebate with every purchase: the monks will pray for you....What a deal!

Encouraging Social Entrepreneurism

So this little business started out and has done relatively well. Dr. Dillon mentioned in his introduction a few of the media outlets that have covered us, and we've had some good ones. In addition, last year Fortune Magazine named us one of its most admired companies in America, for smaller businesses. Not bad. The Los Angeles Times also did a nice article, as did the London Independent. And I did a BBC interview last week. It just keeps going.

As the CEO of LaserMonks.com, I do a lot of national speaking engagements with institutions and major companies on social entrepreneurism—doing for-profit work in order to support non-profit good works. I speak to national business leaders, especially through Legatus, the international Catholic CEOs' organization, as well as many secular groups. Imagine, this little monk comes in and tells business people how to run their businesses…and they actually listen! And they're incorporating some of these Christian values of Christian stewardship into the formation of their businesses and their market economy. This is a good thing!

Don't Underestimate what God Can Do

I went into a monastery to be a contemplative monk, thinking I would pray all my life—and I do that—but I've ended up doing a lot of other things that I never expected to do, and having an effect in a world that often the Church doesn't get to touch. All of this, because of this college, where I came with absolutely no intention of doing anything I'm doing right now.

So, you should never underestimate what God can do with the gifts and talents of every single person in this room—whether it's the students that are going to go out into the world, or the members of the Board of Governors, or the faculty members— to bring good about in this world. That's what Thomas Aquinas College is about in so many ways.

The Romance of Knowledge and Love

During my sophomore year here, we studied St. Anselm's Proslogion: Credo ut intelligam. I believe so that I may understand. That's what got me into the Church. Then I entered the Cistercians, more of a Credo ut experior group. I believe so that I may experience.

What I have learned is that these two must work together, the mind and the heart. Even St. Thomas says one must know an object before one can love it. If you know it, and you see it as good, you're going to love it. If you love it, you will want to know it more. There is this infinite spiral that continues, much like a romance.

In the monastic life, there is a phrase: ora et labora; prayer and work. We put these together. Work is not something we do 9:00-5:00 and then go home and be real monks. We intersperse the day with moments in which we touch base with God, we touch base with our brothers, we touch base with a certain amount of intellectual education. We have readings at meals, which are otherwise silent. We take full graduate level courses. There is a constant flow throughout the day where we make a conscious choice to structure our days around growth of body, mind, and spirit.

I take care that my monks try and keep in good physical health. Looking after myself is much harder. What is essential, though, is to have someone to whom you're accountable—a mentor, spiritual guide, spiritual director, whatever it may be. St. Bernard once said "He who is the disciple of himself is the disciple of a fool." There is something very serious about that. To have someone to whom you're accountable in your life is the one thing that will help you move forward and keep a certain amount of priority and viability in everything you're seeking.

Listen with the Ears of Your Heart

I am proud of this college. I am proud of everything that goes on here, and I am proud of everyone in this room—those of you who have made the commitment to study here; those of you who have made the commitment to teach here; those of you who take your time, your talent, and your treasures to keep this college going and move it into the future. We've set the standard in America for liberal education. We continue to do so. Our graduates are all over the country doing all kinds of great things. This is an incredible place, and we have all been called here for some strange reason, never knowing—never knowing—where it might lead, what we might end up doing, who we might affect in our lives. I'm very thankful for that.

One day during my formation, I was in prayer, and I seemed to hear Our Lord ask, "What would you have of me?" I responded saying, "Only you, Lord.... for everyone." And that is what I wish for you tonight: only Him, for each of you. Wherever you are going, wherever life takes you, wherever He takes you, listen with the ears of your heart. Respond to those calls, and you never know where it might lead.

Let us pray for one another. God bless you all!

-- Qtrly Newsletter, Spring 2008