Building on his lifelong love of comic books, an Eastern Catholic
monk has authored a short graphic novel, “The Truth is Out There,” to
help explain the truths of the faith in an understandable way. “The reason I did it in cartoon format was because I didn’t think my
friends would read it any other way,” said Amadeus – which is the author's
pen-name. “The Truth is Out There” tells the story of two space-age mail carriers
who begin discussing the meaning of life at a coffee bar, and as they
search for truth, one comes to find it resting in the Catholic Church. In the book's introduction, Amadeus recounts that the work began a few
years before he entered the monastery, during a conversation he was
having with three friends of his who were all “born and raised
Catholic. It became appallingly clear how little any of us knew our faith…I had
just stumbled upon the greatest problem of my generation of Catholics,”
wrote Amadeus. The monk said that he “grew up loving to read,” and his favorite
comic was “The Adventures of Tintin.” When he was ten, he was given a
book “on how to draw comics. Two, actually; one was how to draw cartoons, the other was how to draw superheroes.” Amadeus found he “could do the cartoons alright,” and said, “I fell in love with cartooning.” In high school and college, he wrote cartoons for his school newspapers,
but “wanted to make drawings come to life,” and so became an aerospace
engineer. After working as an engineer for a few years, he felt a call to join the
Maronite Monks of Adoration, a contemplative order located in
Massachusetts. The order is part of the Maronite Church, an Eastern Catholic Church
based in Lebanon. The monks' life is contemplative, dedicated to
Eucharistic Adoration and praying the Divine Office and the Divine
Liturgy. “When I came to the monastery, it was actually incredible: that was when
I didn't want to cartoon,” Amadeus related. “I thought, 'I really have
to settle into being a monk.' But the moment I entered the silence of the cloister, it was like my
head was flooded with cartoons. It was nonstop: I just had all these
great ideas.” Amadeus was able, “with a lot of mortification,” to “put off doing this book for a couple of years.” But in the monastery, immersed in philosophy and theology, he found that
he wanted to share the riches of the Truth with the friends he had
known before entering his new life. “Originally, I wanted to write it out as a letter with a few drawings, like the illustrated manuscript traditions,” he related. But finding that “too boring,” Amadeus said, “finally I broke down and
decided to do the whole thing as a comic strip because that’s what I'm
good at; that’s what I do best.” “The Truth is Out There” betrays a familiarity with the pre-Christian
tradition of philosophy – Plato and Aristotle – as well as the thought
of Saint Thomas Aquinas. Amadeus said the comic format is “just the way I know how to get my
thoughts, my ideas out,” and that “the harder the idea is, the more
helpful it is to draw it out.” Part of his motivation in drawing the graphic novel was to convey the
beauty of the Church's faith, and Amadeus said that beauty – whether
made by man or God – is meant to draw us to the Creator. “The beauty that we create is obviously taken from the beauty of nature.
And the beauty of nature is a reflection of God; that’s his work,” he
said. “I don’t think there is a better way to draw hearts to God, to Christ.
That’s where all the beautiful churches and artwork, all those things we
hold in such high regard…that was inspired by the beauty of nature to
return to the beauty of God.” He intends to write another comic novel, this time about salvation history, called “The Big Picture.”
I am just beginning to dive into the beautiful, ancient devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus, and I wanted to share a bit of the journey with you. It can feel a little overwhelming at first to look at the Crucifix this closely, but I’ve found such a gentle guide in St. Bernard of Clairvaux . In his Jubilee Rhythm on the Passion, Bernard doesn't treat the wounds of Jesus as distant historical facts or sights to be avoided. Instead, he approaches them with the tenderness of a friend, speaking directly to the feet, hands, side, and face of our Lord. For someone like me who is just starting out, his rhythm teaches that prayer isn't just about reciting words; it’s a holy hide-and-seek. Bernard invites us to literally hide ourselves within these wounds, seeing them as clefts in the rock where we can find shelter when our own lives feel turbulent or heavy. As I start this process, I’ve been practicing what I call gazing and greeting. Following Bernard’s lead, I look at the Crucifix an...