St. Benedict's Rule for Today

This is a reprint of  Christopher B. James' excellent post on his website, Jesus Dust.

It was 480 C. E. and the old structures of the Roman empire were already crumbling.  This was to be one of the great pivot points of history.[1]  Into this world in transition, where those seeking to be most fully devoted to God escaped empire by fleeing to the desert as hermits or gathered around a guru, was born Benedict of Nursia.  Benedict’s Rule, a model of Christian discipleship that was community-centered, has endured as a living text for more than 1500 years, making it, according to some, the most influential text on Western society after the Bible.[2]  Even more impressively, Benedictines are widely credited with having saved Western civilization from the ravages of the barbarian invasions.[3]

While Benedictine history is unquestionably impressive, what is surprising is the contemporary revival of interest in the insights this storied tradition has to offer those seeking to craft lives of discipleship in today’s world.  The decades since Vatican II have seen a marked increase in the number of Oblates and associates—those with formal ties to monastic communities who apply the Rule of Benedict to married or single life outside the monastery. 

Additionally, a loose movement of Christian intentional communities, dubbing itself “the new monasticism” has purposefully sought to draw upon the wisdom of the Benedictine tradition to enrich its own practice.  Neomonastics have published a handful of titles and many others have added to those which draw upon Benedict’s Rule to offer the Christian mainstream Monk Habits for Everyday People and tips on How to Be Monastic and Not Leave Your Day Job.  In continuity with these developments, this essay considers three relevant applications of Benedictine insight for those seeking to forge for themselves a way of life following Jesus in the contemporary Western context.

Benedictinism distinguished itself in Benedict’s day by the centrality of community in its Rule.  Benedict begins his Rule by identifying the four different types of monks, and asserting that Cenobites—those who “are based in a monastery and fulfil their service of the Lord under a rule and an abbot or abbess”—are “the strongest kind.”[4]  He contrasts Cenobite practice to the relational isolation of the hermitic Anchorites, the wandering pairs of Sarabites and the vagabond individual Gyrovagues, which he considers the worst of the bunch.  In these comparisons, two of Benedict’s central values emerge: relational and geographical stability.

Contemporary Western society is characterized by both a high degree of mobility[5] and a deep individualism, both of which, many have argued, inhibit churches efforts to form Christians and embody the gospel.  These two realities often function in tandem, individualistic thinking driving decisions to repeatedly uproot oneself or family, and a lifetime of relocation reinforcing an I’m-on-my-own mindset.  By contrast, the Benedictine vow of stability, which is a commitment first to a set of relationships and second to a place, intends to provide an adequate “environment for conversion of life”.[6]  Indeed, for the “Benedictine, life in community is the great human asceticism.”[7]

How might the wisdom of Benedict’s stability be applied today?  Neomonastics provide the most obvious example, making yearly renewals of commitment to their shared-residence fellowships, which are themselves deeply local.  But is there any meaningful ways that Christians could glean Benedict’s wisdom without converting to neomonasticism?  I believe so.  Two approaches can be imagined, with innumerable expressions.  First, one might resolve to remain in one place, one city or even one residence.  While many will inevitably come and go, others will spend long years and this can approximate relational stability.  Moving to be nearer to family—those most enduring of relationships—can be seen in this light.  The geographically stable might also seek lifetime employment in a single company, lifetime membership in a single church, even lifetime patronage at a single grocer or coffeehouse, all of which would result in increased stability in relationships.  A second contemporary approach to stability could take shape if a collection of friends decided that they wanted to spend their lives together.  The expression of this relational stability could be as thin as a commitment to gather yearly for a weekend getaway, or as thick as a vow to always live in the same neighborhood, and make any moves en masse.   It should be noted that steps toward either relational or geographical stability would increasingly leave one out of step with the mainstream as job offers that others deem too-good-to-refuse are passed up and the tug of white flight is resisted.      

A second dimension of Benedict’s insight for today lies in what Joan Chittister, a Benedictine sister, calls Wisdom Distilled from the Daily. According to her, “Benedictine spirituality brings depth and focus to dailiness.”[8]  Benedict considers his a “little” rather than heroic Rule, and its daily routine is served up with large helpings of work and relationships—exactly the stuff of contemporary life for average men and women.  Rather than considering people an obstacle to contemplation or work a distraction from prayer, Benedict’s rule is founded on the “firm conviction” that “God is present everywhere.”[9]

Chittister proposes the relevance of Benedict’s doctrine of God’s omnipresence:

We have to learn to take the raw materials of our lives and 

turn them into the stuff of sanctity.  We can’t wait for the 

perfect person  or the perfect environment to call us to 

spiritual maturity.  The people in our lives are the people 

who will test our virtues, our values, and our depth.[10]

Benedict’s wisdom shatters the still-pervasive belief in a sacred-secular divide.  God, assert Benedictines, is just as present at your desk as at the cathedral, just as present at your dinner table as at the Lord’s Table.  It is for this reason that Chittister considers “sight” one of the two basic gifts of Benedictism for today.[11]  Those who seek to apply Benedict’s wisdom to their contemporary lives are challenged to discover that “…this dull and tiring day is holy and its simple labors are the stuff of God’s saving presence for me now.”[12]

While I agree wholeheartedly with Benedict’s wisdom here, I am concerned that a fair number of contemporary people make of it a license for lack of discipline.  Many seemingly believe that since God is everywhere, work is holy and people are ambassadors of the divine, there is little need for rest, solitude, prayer or scripture.  This brings us to Benedict’s third critical contribution for today.  It should be obvious, but it is oddly overlooked, how central prayer and scripture are to Benedictine spirituality.  Indeed, Benedict calls for four dedicated hours of prayer and three hours of reading and reflection daily.[13]  I agree with Chittister’s assessment: “We not be able to keep that particular schedule, you and I, but we must find a life rhythm that somehow satisfies…those elements.”[14]

In Benedictinism, prayer and scripture are comingled.  Benedictine prayer is dominated by language from the Psalms and Scriptures, which is “intended to immerse the monk in a world where God’s presence is felt and where God’s goodness is praised.”[15]  Indeed, for Benedictines, belief and awareness of God’s presence everywhere and at all times is dependent upon a set aside time and space for immersion in this reality.  This presence according to Chittister, importantly, “demands a total response.”[16]  The features of Benedictine prayer identified by Chittister have pointed relevance.  Benedictine prayer’s regularity makes a claim on the true purpose of time, and confounds modern self-importance.[17]  Its universality anchors it in the needs of the entire universe, rather than those of the of the praying individual, making it an antidote to narcissism.  Its reflectivness offers the possibility of integrating the fragmented pieces of our lives.[18]  Benedictine prayer is converting, serving as a practice that calls for a change of mind—and an opening to the cries of those in need.[19]  Finally, prayer in the Benedictine tradition is communal, challenging rampant individualism and binding the praying community together. [20]

The primary Benedictine practice of engaging scripture is lectio divina, which is being rediscovered widely.  In lectio divina, scripture is approached meditatively and reverently and the intention of the reading is affective rather than cognitive.[21]  Through quiet repetition, “the text serves as a mirror that brings inner realities to consciousness” and this “heightened awareness exposes our need for divine help and readily leads to prayer.”[22]

Applying the centrality of disciplined regimens and psychologically astute practices of prayer and scripture to contemporary life need not be complicated, though it will not be easy.  Time must be set aside.  Many, even Protestants, are experimenting with praying the divine hours, as fresh titles attest.[23]  Evangelicals have long promoted “daily quiet times” of morning reading and prayer.  While this practice, as I have learned firsthand, is often used inappropriately as a gauge of spiritual health and maturity, it no less has much to commend it.  Whether they elect to pray the hours or keep a quiet time, or follow another disciplined pattern of prayer and scripture, contemporary disciples who wish to integrate the wisdom of Benedictine spirituality into their lives will have to set aside dedicated time for these central practices.  There is simply no way to be in any meaningful sense “monastic” without prioritizing these basic Christian practices.

The Benedictine wisdom we have surveyed is both timeless and timely.  Relationships have always been and will always be a primary means of grace, and the Benedictine practice of stability capitalizes on this fact—something of particular relevance to our hyper-mobile society.  Most people must spend the lion’s share of their lives engaged in the mundane tasks of daily life—working, eating, conversing—and Benedict challenges us to discover God’s presence even here, even in the 21st century.  Scripture and prayer are among the most fundamental practices of Christian tradition and Benedict has invited believers for 1500 years to set aside time for these—and his invitation extends to today’s world in which these increasingly seem overly pious and passé.  May Benedictine wisdom find expression today in Christians and churches who exercise these practices and therein find the God Benedict knew to be everywhere.

Active Revelation

Thursday of the Second Week of Easter 2014

John 14:6-14

Jesus said to Thomas, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him."Philip said to him, "Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied." Jesus said to him, "Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, `Show us the Father'? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it."

REFLECTION

""I am the way, and the truth, and the life...If you know me, you will know my Father also."

Want to know what truth is?  Look to Jesus.

Want to know what life is?  Look to Jesus.

Want to know who God is and what he's like?  Look to Jesus.

God reveals himself in many ways; through scripture, through prayer, through nature, through history, through experience and through other people.  But, Jesus is the supreme self-revelation of God, "For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form" (Col. 2:9, NASB).  Jesus taught not only by his words, but also by his actions; and indeed by his very own person. He referred to himself as the Truth and as the Light (Jn 8:12). He showed himself not merely to be speaking God’s words, but to be himself the Living Word of God in human flesh, the Logos who is eternal and uncreated, but who has become man as Jesus of Nazareth in order to make God known to the world.

God's self revelation however, is of no use other than for intellectual, metaphysical gymnastics if it is not put to use; into action.  Orthodoxy without orthopraxis is dull theology. Orthopraxis without orthodoxy is a religion of sentimentality, subjectivism and empty good works.

Today, as we look to Jesus and experience his presence we might ask ourselves:

"What is God telling and teaching me?"

"What is God asking me to pray for?"

And finally, "how am I going to put this into practice?"  The Christian life is not just about a mental agreement with the major tenets of the faith. It’s about a whole new lifestyle.

Tea Time Browsing

Posted by Gerald Mendoza

• Tim Muehlhoff on Arguing Against the Argument Culture.

• Obliquely related:  Is aggression resculpting what it means to be Christian?

• Not JUST another argument against the death neatly:  A New study shows 1 in 25 death penalty inmates are actually innocent.

• There is a region of Canada, a county really, that is building community by building character in the community.  Their website has all kinds of interactive, character-themed initiatives.  See Character Community of York and pray it spreads.

• Across the pond, British PM David Cameron has created quite the stir by claiming that England is "a Christian country."  The Archbishop of  Canterbury, Justin Welby says yes,  "In fact Cameron's views are not controversial but historical, the archbishop writes. "It is a historical fact (perhaps unwelcome to some, but true) that our main systems of ethics, the way we do law and justice, the values of society, how we decide what is fair, the protection of the poor, and most of the way we look at society … All have been shaped by and founded on Christianity.  A new poll indicates that 56 percent of respondents agreed with Cameron’s statement.  At the same time,  only 14 percent answered that they practice Christianity..

• Sometimes I think that Sarah Palin and Pat Robertson are in a secret competition to see who can say the most outrageous things.    In a speech to members of the National Rifle Association, gathered in Indianapolis this weekend, Palin stated that if she were in charge, "everyone would know that water boarding is how we baptize terrorists."   The Gospel Coalition rightly had some problems with that.

• Speaking of outrageous comments,  NBA bans Donald Sterling for life, fines him $2.5 million for racial comments.

• Quote of the week:  Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby said April 10 that “the gospel of peace is reclaimed by loving those who love violence and hatred” and that a church committed to peacemaking “looks like those who join their enemies on their knees.”

• Stephen Brewster's creative ideas.

• Bad Religious is, well, a pretty lousy punk rock band.  Good religion is something else.

• Hank Hanngraaff on Osteenification and what it portends.  Ouch.

Rational, Spiritual Reasoning

Reading 1ACTS 5:17-26

The high priest rose up and all his companions,
that is, the party of the Sadducees,
and, filled with jealousy,
laid hands upon the Apostles and put them in the public jail.
But during the night, the angel of the Lord opened the doors of the prison,
led them out, and said,
“Go and take your place in the temple area,
and tell the people everything about this life.”
When they heard this,
they went to the temple early in the morning and taught.
When the high priest and his companions arrived,
they convened the Sanhedrin,
the full senate of the children of Israel,
and sent to the jail to have them brought in.
But the court officers who went did not find them in the prison,
so they came back and reported,
“We found the jail securely locked
and the guards stationed outside the doors,
but when we opened them, we found no one inside.”
When the captain of the temple guard and the chief priests heard this report,
they were at a loss about them,
as to what this would come to.
Then someone came in and reported to them,
“The men whom you put in prison are in the temple area
and are teaching the people.”
Then the captain and the court officers went and brought them,
but without force,
because they were afraid of being stoned by the people.

REFLECTION

"Filled with jealousy [they] laid hands on the Apostles and put them in jail."

It's amazing how much our emotions unmindfully drive what we do, think and say.  Human emotion is a wonderful thing; they inform our intellects, move us to empathy, help us toward compassion and, well, make us human.  But when our emotions are the driving force of our actions, overriding the intellect and will, we end up having the tail wag the dog.

A totally emotional decision is typically very fast. This is because it takes time (at least 0.1 seconds) for the rational cortex to get going. This is the reactive (and largely subconscious) decision-making that you encounter in heated arguments or when faced with immediate danger, or when we are so rigid in our thinking that we cannot see another point of view.  Common emotional decisions may use some logic, but the main driving force is emotion, which either overrides logic or uses a pseudo-logic to support emotional choices (this is extremely common).

The religious leaders in today's reading were so overcome with jealous rage that they could not see the work of the Kingdom of God in their midst.   If we're honest, we recognize that, at times, emotional responses impede the work of God in our lives as well, especially in relation to others.  

But when we live mindfully and prayerfully, we become more attuned to God's will and work around us, and less dependent on spiritually crippling emotional responses.

Gratitude: A Cure for Worry

Poster by Rev. Gerald Mendoza


Monday of Easter 2 2014  Gratitude a Cure for Worry


"Jesus said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!  And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."  Luke 12:22-24,29-31

In 1998, the whistler Bobby McFerrin came out with an odd song titled, Don't worry, be happy.  He was onto something.  One of the most important cures for worry is a mindful sense of  gratitude.  It has been truly said that anxiety can be reduced to fear of not getting what we want, or losing what we have?  But there is a third, non-bipolar, non-dualistic way: contentment arising out of gratitude for what we have.  

Something profound and transformative happens when we give thanks and live our lives in gratitude to God and to one another. And if we make a lifelong practice of it, it fundamentally shifts the way we view the world. Worry and anxiety are rooted in fear, scarcity and isolation. Gratitude is rooted in love, abundance and connection.  In the act of giving thanks, I have shown you my cards. I have shown you what I value and where I am vulnerable. When I say thank you, I say I am not enough on my own and that I need you.

When I say thank you, I say without shame that I could not have made it by myself, that I reject the myth of the self-made man who must pull himself up by his bootstraps unaided.This is grace. It recognizes, admits, and embraces our incompleteness, our utter, beautiful and holy dependence on each other and on God.

Witnessing the Wonder 

by Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel

---

Prayer is our humble answer 

to the inconceivable surprise of living. 

It is all we can offer in return 

for the mystery by which we live. 

Amidst the meditation of mountains, 

the humility of flowers

— wiser than all alphabets — 

clouds that die constantly 

for the sake of God’s glory, 

we are hating, hunting, hurting. 

Suddenly we feel ashamed 

of our clashes and complaints

in face of the tacit glory in nature. 

It is embarrassing to live!

How strange we are in the world, 

and how presumptuous our doings! 

Only one response can maintain us: 

gratefulness for witnessing the wonder, 

for the gift of our unearned right to serve,

to adore, and to fulfill. It is gratefulness 

which makes the soul great.

OPINION RELIGION

Why Science Does Not Disprove God

• Amir D. Aczei TIME MAGAZIVE

We know that 13.7 billion years ago, a gargantuan burst of energy, whose nature and source are completely unknown to us and not in the least understood by science, initiated the creation of our Universe. Then suddenly, as if by magic, the “God particle”—the Higgs boson discovered two years ago inside CERN’s powerful particle accelerator, the Large Hadron Collider—came into being and miraculously gave the Universe its mass. Why did this happen? The mass constituted elementary particles—the quarks and the electron—whose weights and electrical charges had to fall within immeasurably tight bounds for what would happen next. For from within the primeval “soup” of elementary particles that constituted the young Universe, again as if by a magic hand, all the quarks suddenly bunched in threes to form protons and neutrons, their electrical charges set precisely to the exacting level needed to attract and capture the electrons, which then began to circle nuclei made of the protons and neutrons. All of the masses, the charges, and the forces of interaction in the Universe had to be just in the precisely needed amounts so that early light atoms could form. Larger ones would then be cooked in nuclear fires inside stars, thus giving us the carbon, iron, nitrogen, oxygen, and all the other elements that are so essential for life to emerge. And eventually, the highly complicated double-helix molecule, the life-propagating DNA, would be formed.

Why did everything we need in order to exist come into being? How was all of this possible without some latent outside power to orchestrate the precise dance of elementary particles required for the creation of all the essentials of life? The great British mathematician Roger Penrose has calculated—based on only one of the hundreds of parameters of the physical Universe—that the probability of the emergence of a life-giving cosmos was one divided by 10, raised to the power 10, and again raised to the power of 123. This is a number as close to zero as anyone has ever imagined. (The probability is much, much smaller than that of winning the Mega Millions jackpot for more days than the Universe has been in existence.)

The “Scientific Atheists” have scrambled to explain this troubling mystery by suggesting the existence of a multiverse—an infinite set of universes, each with its own parameters. In some universes, the conditions are wrong for life; however, by the sheer size of this putative multiverse, there must be a universe where everything is right. But if it takes an immense power of nature to create one universe, then how much more powerful would that force have to be in order to create infinitely many universes? So the purely hypothetical multiverse does not solve the problem of God. The incredible fine-tuning of the Universe presents the most powerful argument for the existence of an immanent creative entity we may well call God. Lacking convincing scientific evidence to the contrary, such a power may be necessary to force all the parameters we need for our existence—cosmological, physical, chemical, biological, and cognitive—to be what they are.

Science and religion are two sides of the same deep human impulse to understand the world, to know our place in it, and to marvel at the wonder of life and the infinite cosmos we are surrounded by. Let’s keep them that way, and not let one of them attempt to usurp the role of the other.

In Order: Second Sunday of Easter

Sunday, April 27, 2014, Second Sunday of Easter,

Posted by Rev. Gerald Mendoza

The brethren "devoted themselves to the apostles' instruction and the communal life, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." -Acts 2:42

In the first community of Jerusalem, believers 'devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and the prayers.' This sequence is characteristic of the Church's prayer.   The four aspects of Acts 2:42 are sequential, at least in the context of prayer. This means that our prayers must be based on the greatest prayer, the breaking of the bread, that is, the Eucharist. Furthermore, the Eucharist will be a far cry from what the Lord wants it to be if not celebrated in the context of communal life. The breakdown of Christian community in our secular society accounts for much of the lukewarmness in our Eucharistic spirituality.

However, we will be imprisoned by our cultural blindspots and refuse Christian community until we take on the mind of Christ (1 Cor 2:16) by devoting ourselves to the apostles' instruction through the Church's teachings and the Bible (Acts 2:42). Finally, without the Holy Spirit, we will never devote ourselves to the apostles' instruction, the communal life, or the Christian life.

We are out of order. The conditions of our lives, Eucharists, and prayers show that something's wrong. However, the risen Christ is breathing on each of us now. Jesus commands us: "Receive the Holy Spirit" (Jn 20:22). The Spirit alone can put our lives in order. Come, Holy Spirit!

Come have breakfast

John 21:1-14

Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, "I am going fishing." They said to him, "We will go with you." They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, "Children, you have no fish, have you?" They answered him, "No." He said to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some." So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!" When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast." 

Come and have breakfast

God is love.  Because God is love, it is in his nature, the nature of love, to reveal himself. Jesus the perfect revelation of God "shows himself again" in the intimacy of a meal.

Few activities in life are as seemingly mundane yet vitally important as eating. Food is one of the bare necessities of life, and everyone—man or woman, young or old, king or servant—must eat. Thus it is perhaps not so surprising that many of the Biblical stories are set within the context of a meal. From the Hebrew Bible’s accounts of the food Abraham prepares for his divine visitors (Genesis 18:1–8), the stew with which Jacob deceives his aged father, Isaac (Genesis 27), and the all-important Passover meal (Exodus 12) to the New Testament’s miraculous wedding feast at Cana (John 2:1–11), the celebration for the return of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11–32), and even the Last Supper (Matthew 26; Mark 14; Luke 22; John 13), the Biblical texts provide countless examples of how ancient life was centered around meals. Ritual feasts and banquets in the Biblical world and beyond were particularly important occasions for showing devotion to a deity, solidifying social relationships and ranks, as well as teaching lessons.

So Jesus says, "come and have breakfast...I'm cooking."  Accept?

Easter Wednesday: The Road to Emmaus

Posted by Rev. Gerald Mendoza

Luke 24:13-35

Now on that same day, the first day of the week, two of the disciples were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, "What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?" They stood still, looking sad. Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, "Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?" He asked them, "What things?" They replied, "The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him." Then he said to them, "Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?" Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.

As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, "Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over." So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!" Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

Reflection

Notice the sequence of events.

It all starts with community.  A small community but a community nonetheless.  Jesus is present in the act of communio.  "For where two or three have gathered together in My name, I am there in their midst."  (Mt. 18:20),  The relevatory work of God always begins and ends in the company of others.

Second, the risen Christ instructs directly from the scriptures.  St. Jerome's ancient dictum that "Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ" seems to be borne out here.  Jesus, rather than explicating from his own words draws these travelers' attention to the ancient Hebrew bible as the most fitting way to learn about him.  Once the word is proclaimed by The Word, he moves to the Church's most ancient tradition: communion.  During a recent road trip, I had the opportunity to listen on CD to Dr. John Baldovin's History of the Mass 12 lecture series (Now You Know Media, highly recommended).  He points out that from the earliest days of then Church the same formula was used, and is used to the present day:  take, bless, break and eat.  It's is in the breaking of the bread that their eyes were opened and prepared then to go.

Thirdly, we read that "That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together." Again, they are driven from the experience of encountering Jesus to community; to be with others who have experienced his presence and to share their own faith experience.

All of this happens in the liturgy.  Liturgy is thus not meant to be a reflection of man back to himself, but rather an education in and through the mysteries and sacraments which take place. Joseph Ratzinger notes, “I discover that something is approaching me here that I did not produce myself, that I am entering into something greater than myself, which ultimately derives from divine revelation.”  In listening to and contemplatively participating in the liturgy, one discovers depths of meaning of which one is not immediately aware. 

They Ran to Announce

At the Easter vigil we hear a series of stories relating to the unfolding of salvation history: The creaton story,  the flood, Abraham and Isaac, the deliverance from Egypt and other integral aspects of what the great Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel called, "God in search of man."  These culminate in God's invitation to all who would come, to participate in the divine life for all eternity: "everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!"  (Isa. 55:1)  Sealing and confirming that invitation, the resurrection of Jesus Christ ranks as history's most revolutionary event. 

After Jesus' resurrection, we hear in today's readings that the two women "ran to tell" of Christ's final, culminating act.  Easter transformed these women, and later, the other disciples in to messengers of where to find the living waters and the food for which we can never pay.  Easter then, can and should transform us too.  We too can be transformed into those who "run to tell" of, not only Jesus' resurrection, but also how he is resurrected in us and how his resurrection can resurrect others.

We "run to tell" in our words; in telling others how our faith has transformed us and inviting others to faith.  We "run to tell" when we, in his name, challenge injustice in the world.  We "run to tell" when we feed the hungry, clothe the naked, give water to the thirsty, care for the poor, visit those in prison.  We "run to tell" when we remember and fulfill our baptismal promises.

Easter needs to be transformative but that transformation is not for our own spiritual security alone.  It's not a religious IRA or insurance policy.  It is a trust account that we hold for the benefit of others, for truly, we can only keep what we give away.

Happy Easter

The Rule of St. Benedict for Modern Times Ch. 60

The Rule of St. Benedict is a timeless document - in so many ways as fresh and relevant as it was when it was written almost fifteen hundred years ago. Although written for monastics, many of the issues addressed in the Rule can be applied to life in the world outside the monastic community. The qualities which make up a valued life - humility, patience, simplicity, solitude, caring for others, and living in community - concern everyone. These specifics of the Rule, and the framework it provides, have great meaning for people who are seeking to live out their faith in the world today.

Chapter 60: On Priests Who May Wish to Live in the Monastery

If any ordained priest
should ask to be received into the monastery,
permission shall not be granted too readily.
But if he is quite persistent in his request,
let him know that he will have to observe the whole discipline of the Rule
and that nothing will be relaxed in his favor,
that it may be as it is written:
"Friend, for what have you come (Matt. 26:50)?"

It shall be granted him, however, to stand next after the Abbot
and to give blessings and to celebrate Mass,
but only by order of the Abbot. Without such order let him not make any exceptions for himself,
knowing that he is subject to the discipline of the Rule;
but rather let him give an example of humility to all.

If there happens to be question of an appointment
or of some business in the monastery,
let him expect the rank due him
according to the date of his entrance into the monastery,
and not the place granted him
out of reverence for the priesthood.

If any clerics, moved by the same desire,
should wish to join the monastery,
let them be placed in a middle rank.
But they too are to be admitted only if they promise
observance of the Rule and stability.

REFLECTION

One of the quintessential questions of the Holy Rule is that of
Jesus: "Friend, for what have you come?" This question is not just
for priests, but for each of us, for all Christians and all monastics.
The only acceptable answer to the question is: "To seek
God." That might be rephrased in any of a number of ways, but that's
the main event, the only game in town, the end all and be all of
Benedictine monastic life.

It is very necessary, in stating that we seek God, to admit that we
haven't altogether found Him yet, nor will we ever do so before
death. Even in the beatific vision of heaven itself, we creatures
will never, ever get to the root of our Creator, to the "ground zero"
of God. Ain't gonna happen. We will just keep going deeper and
loving more for eternity. The more we know, the more we will love,
but we shall never know all!

Another way of saying this is that we need to come to the Holy Rule
and to the Gospel and to Christ admitting how frighteningly little we
DO know. If we think an MDiv or an MD or a BS have
corrected that problem, even slightly, well, maybe
that degree is just about all we've gotten from the experience.

Truly, with Socrates, we ought to know enough to know that we
know nothing! Realizing that the very best of us has nothing but the
barest tip of the iceberg is a great and tender mercy, indeed!

I heartily recommend it. It is the only position from
which one may learn anything at all. Get too smart (or think you
have!) and you will never listen, failing yet another Benedictine
hallmark. You won't learn because all your energy will go into
composing your rejoinder or response. Such people do not learn. They
merely joust. Life is more than that, much more. Tons more.

Love and prayers,
Jerome, OSB
http://www.stmarysmonastery.org
Petersham, MA

Good Friday: Short Reflections On the Seven Last Words of Christ

The First Word:  “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” (Luke 23:34)

 If they only knew.  If they only knew they wouldn't act that way.  If they only knew they would do things the way I want them to.  If they only knew how much they hurt me.  If they only knew they would praise me.  If they only knew they would promote me.  If they only knew.  Jesus clearly understood that people sometimes do untoward things, not necessarily because they are evil but because they are ignorant:  they don't have all the--in this case--faith facts.   

On this Good Friday, how can we look at those who have hurt us and say,  "they didn't know."  "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing."  "They didn't understand my circumstances." The cross is the most perfect symbol of love and reconciliation.  Jesus wants us to be proactive about reconciliation, even in the midst of hurt.

The Second Word: “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Ours is an eschatological failth.  We understand, or we need to understand that our actions have eternal  consequences.  In the Kingdom, paradoxically "fully here, but not yet," eschatology technically means things concerning the end of human history and human existence. Clearly this was on the mind of "the good thief" as he pondered the end of his own existence.  

Just as we heard on Ash Wednesday "remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return," reflecting on the death of both Christ and the good thief calls us to examine our preparedness to move from this life into the next.  Early monks would, at times, greet each other with the words, "memento mori," remember you must die.  Are we prepared to die to self in this life so that we can live in the next?

The Third Word:“Dear woman, here is your son.” (John 19:26)

The presence of Mary at the cross adds both humanity and horror to the scene. We are reminded that Jesus was a real human being, a man who had once been a boy who had once been carried in the womb of his mother. Even as he was dying on the cross as the Savior of the world, Jesus was also a son, a role he didn’t neglect in his last moments.  

The third word might help us reflect on our familial relationships.  Who are we and how faithful and responsible are we in our own families; our immediate family?  The human family? Our church family?  Do we care for those who are vulnerable?

The Fourth Word: “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?” (Mark 15:34)

Here Jesus repeats the words of the psalmist (Ps. 22)

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Why are you so far away when I groan for help?
Every day I call to you, my God, but you do not answer.
Every night you hear my voice, but I find no relief. (vv. 1-2)

This side of heaven, we will never fully know what Jesus was experiencing in this moment, but we have all experienced, I expect, moments of barren places and experiences where we wonder where God is.  

Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to reflect back on those times and see how, in fact, God and grace were present, as an antidote to despair in future times so that we might always remember that God and grace are, indeed, ever present.  Easter vindicates this for Jesus and it should for us too.

The Fifth Word: “I am thirsty.”  (John 19:28)

No doubt that while on the cross, Jesus experienced extreme thirst.  Instead of water though, he was given vinegar, a substance that would only increase his thirst. So often when we thirst, we too seem to be given vinegar by others increasing our pain, or we ourselves turn to poor substitutes to quench our thirst.   It is then that we might reflect on what is it exactly that we thirst for.  “As the deer pants after the water brooks, so pants my soul after You, O God.” Psalm 42:1.  What are we really  thirsting for this Good Friday, the real good which is God or the apparent good of cheap substitutes?

The Sixth Word: “It is finished!” (John 19:30)

When Jesus said “It is finished,” surely he was expressing relief that his suffering was over.  But not just that. “It is finished” meant, in part, “This is finally done!”   Voila!  Finito! There is nothing we can add to it!  How much we try to add though.  If we could only this or only that, then God would be pleased and grant us his favor.  No.  It is finished.  It is done.  God has "in Person" shown us his furious love, mercy, and compassion.  Everything else is midrash or commentary.

The Seventh Word: “Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!”  (Luke 23:46)

Knowing that "it is finished" the God's work and love for us is completed in Christ Jesus, we can turn our will and our lives over to his care and direction.  This is an affirmative decision and action of the will.       

It is a decision that Christ chose before the beginning of creation and reaffirmed on the cross.  It is a decision that we may have made before, but do well to reaffirm today...and everyday. 

Know Thyself; Give Thyself

"And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him."

The Ancient Greek aphorism "Know thyself" was used by Plato to further Socrates' dialogic style of philosophizing.  To know yourself is to know who you really are (and what you really know) rather than what you or other people think you are (or think you know).  For Socrates, knowing yourself meant, first and foremost, knowledge of the fact that you don't know what you think you know.  One gets to that place by constantly questioning one's assumptions; for Socrates,  that happens in dialogue with another.  That takes humility.  Once one pares away the masks of the assumed self, then one is ready to face the Truth.

By virtue of the fact that Jesus is the fullest revelation of who God is, he needs no ego-centric facades.  He recognizes who he is "knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God."  Jesus is free from the veneers and polishes that hide and diminish the precious material (consubstantial with the Father but truly human) of who he is.   Stripped of the superfluous, he reacts as only God can react once the possibility of "baggage" is neutralized--he responds WITH SACRIFICIAL SERVICE, washing the feet of those who, in the economy of both the social milieu and in salvation, are his lessors.

We can learn from that.  It is only when we too are stripped of ego, masks, postures, veneers and all of the things that diminish who we are in Christ and in the eyes of God, that we can be compelled to service for the other in imitation of the God who can only--by his very nature--self-give in love.