Word: monke
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...Notre Dame Cathedral on Easter morning, just as Archbishop Maurice Feltin was chanting the Credo, Michel Mourre, a 22-year-old former student for holy orders, dressed in a rented Dominican monk's robe, climbed into the pulpit, grabbed the microphone and roared: "God is dead! I accuse the Catholic Church of infecting the world with a funeral spirit." Some of the congregation of 10,000 rushed forward to drag Mourre from the pulpit. Three of his friends, standing at its foot, threw firecrackers in the faces of the infuriated faithful. Gendarmes arrested Mourre and his three friends...
...Buddhist monk may not preach until the congregation asks him to. He usually asks that they gain bunya by agreeing (for one day, not for life) to obey five commandments: 1) thou shalt not kill anything, not even the mosquito that bites you, 2) nor steal, 3) nor lie, 4) nor commit adultery, 5) nor take intoxicating drinks. Many Siamese strike a balance between bunya and bapa by agreeing to observe commandments 4 and 5 only on alternate days...
...farmhouse one autumn evening to ask for food. When he was invited in to dinner, he stayed on for a year. The Stranger was a great yarner and a great toper but he was also a tremendous worker and he more than earned his keep. Before he left Monk's Inlet, a tiny farm hamlet on the St. Lawrence River in Quebec, he had left his mark on the lives of all who came in contact with him. Old Widower Beauchemin loved him more than he loved his own lazy son, and Neighbor Angelina Desmarais had fallen madly...
...effect on the pious, closefisted French Canadian farm folk of Monk's Inlet, the Stranger is really only a literary device. Canadian Author Germaine Guevremont has used him and his outland ways simply to point up the careful, ordered provincial life of a countryside she describes with affectionate fidelity. The Outlander is a completely unpretentious novel of place, almost entirely without plot, and only incidentally concerned with human characters. Nature broods omnisciently over the story, making even birth and death seem but fragments in a larger design...
...line of patient, pious Mexicans inched forward, a squat, swarthy man moved stolidly along with it. It was worth the trouble, he reflected. It was not every day that a Mexican could see so holy a relic with his own eyes. It was not every day that a Belgian monk, trying to promote peace in the Holy Land, arrived on a world tour with a splinter from Jesucristo's own cross. Dios, what excitement! Red Cross ambulances screamed up & down, carting off women & children trampled in the crush...