Wisdom from the Rule

Easter Joy – “Christ is Risen. He is Risen Indeed!”

Christ is Risen. He is Risen indeed!

To the Saint Martin’s community, from students and staff, faculty, monks, oblates and friends, from the Benedictine Institute – Happy Easter.

Having concluded our twelve weeks of reflections upon the three Benedictine vows of conversatio, stability and obedience, we wanted to conclude this series of Wisdom from the Rule this semester (don’t worry, we will be back in the Fall) on the wider implications of the Easter faith in the Resurrected Christ. This week, Abbot Marion Nguyen OSB will offer to us some very apt and poignant reflections on where Easter begins, as seen from the perspective of Mary Magdalen, who approaches Christ’s empty tomb in the early hours “when it was still dark”. Abbot Marion infers from this historical, factual detail a significant spiritual lesson:

Mary shows us where many of us begin: not with triumphant faith, but with grief and longing. She teaches us the first lesson of Easter—not a chorus of hallelujahs, but the honest truth that resurrection begins in the place of death.

This spiritual truth is all the more poignant considering the passing of Pope Francis. Both Abbot Marion and President William Brownsberger have recently addressed the wider St. Martin’s community and if you have not yet read their reflections, please do so (see in attachment)

• Abbot Marion Nguyen on the passing of Pope Francis
• President William Brownsberger on the passing of Pope Francis

Easter joy mixed with the grief and sorrow of death? What on the surface seem like total opposites are in fact united, as Easter joy is regarded not as the absence of sorrow and grief. Quite the contrary:

Resurrection begins in the shadows. Mary [Magdalen] gives us permission to begin our Easter right where we are—grieving what we’ve lost, naming the disappointments we carry, and doing what love asks of us anyway.

Meditation

Meet me there Lord

Abbot Marion Nguyen, OSB
Saint Martin’s Abbey and University

“They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him.”— John 20:2

This Easter, we are drawn into the tender, raw humanity of Mary Magdalene as she approaches the tomb in the early hours—when the first light breaks through the dark. The Gospel tells us she came "while it was still dark." That darkness isn’t just a time of day—it’s a window into Mary’s soul: a heart weighed down by sorrow, confusion, and love.

She didn’t come with hope. She came with love. She didn’t come expecting a miracle. She came to mourn.

Mary came to do what was decent and human—to anoint the body of someone she deeply loved. Her act is profoundly human and deeply relatable. Who among us hasn’t returned to the graves of hopes long buried? Who hasn’t visited the memories of broken relationships or long-lost dreams—not because we expect to fix anything, but because we care? Because love compels us?

Mary shows us where many of us begin: not with triumphant faith, but with grief and longing. She teaches us the first lesson of Easter—not a chorus of hallelujahs, but the honest truth that resurrection begins in the place of death.

When she sees the stone rolled away and the tomb empty, her first reaction is not joy, but fear: “They have taken the Lord.” Her mind cannot yet grasp resurrection. Even though Jesus had spoken of it many times, this was beyond imagination. A metaphor, perhaps—a spiritual promise. But this? Bodily resurrection? Life where death had ruled?

Easter begins right there—not with full understanding, but with a breaking open of the old ways of seeing.

St. John Chrysostom once noted that Mary’s love outpaced her understanding—and that was enough: “It was not knowledge, but love, that made her run.”(Homily 85 on the Gospel of John) St. Augustine calls Mary a figure of the Church—one who seeks Christ in sorrow and finds Him in glory: “She was seeking the dead, but He whom she was seeking as dead, was alive.”(Tractate 121 on the Gospel of John, 3)

And again, describing her transformation: “She saw, and she believed. The tomb became her pulpit, the stone rolled away her sign, and the absence of a body, her message.”(Sermon 232E)

Mary’s persistence in love opens the door to faith. Her tears become the soil from which joy springs—not a blind optimism, but a transformed vision. Her story invites us to our own conversion—to let go of our limited expectations of what God can do. To begin believing not only in the possibility of resurrection, but in its reality—in our lives, right now.

We, too, must leave behind the old paradigms: That what is dead stays dead. That the end is the end. That darkness will always have the final word. Mary came to anoint a corpse. She left as the first witness of the Resurrection. The shift is astonishing—and it mirrors the journey we are all invited to make. As Gregory the Great said:

“She longed for Him whom she believed had been taken away, and so her love grew stronger. And because she persevered, she found Him.” (Homily 25 on the Gospels)

Mary becomes the apostola apostolorum—the apostle to the apostles—not because she grasped everything with her intellect, but because she clung to Christ with her heart, even in her pain. The resurrection begins in the shadows. Mary gives us permission to begin our Easter right where we are—grieving what we’ve lost, naming the disappointments we carry, and doing what love asks of us anyway.

So persist. Keep showing up. Let love carry you—even when you don’t yet understand. Be open to being moved by grief, and by grace. Be open to new life where death once reigned. Wait, as Mary waited. And soon, the Lord will call you by name. Soon, you will see—not just an empty tomb—but the One who broke it open.

Amen.

Obedience – “Christ became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross”

The core of Christian faith can be said to revolve around not so much what Jesus did and taught, but rather who he is. Our response to the question: “Who do you say that I am?” is of crucial importance.

Quite literally, in fact, recalling that our word “crucial” derives from the Latin word ‘crux’, as well as its genitive form ‘crucis’ meaning ‘cross’. The response given by Simon Peter, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Mt 16, 16) is not only of central importance in defining the what of Christian faith, but because who Christians profess Jesus to be, it then elevates the how, all that  Jesus did and taught to be of endless, infinite significance.

This is most evidently the case when it concerns how Jesus approached his Passion and his Cross, turning what is truly horrific and entirely unspeakable into a symbol of hope for eternal life. The Truth of the Christian proclamation that Jesus Christ is Lord and the Way, guided by the Holy Spirit, to the house of the Father, to eternal Life, a house with ‘many rooms’, this faith professes that this way must pass through the Cross. This is the story of Holy Week, of Christ’s passion and death; of Christ’s descent into hell; and his resurrection from the dead, the source of the Christian’s Easter joy.

During this Holy Week, to follow the way of Christ, the Church invites us to come face to face with our own “cross”, our own seemingly inescapable burdens, and to join our sufferings with his. “Come to me, all you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Mt 11, 28) This is the passage immediately behind the Christ statue atop Old Main, issuing its compassionate invitation to all  the many generations of students, Faculty, Staff and monks alike, all who have climbed those stairs and passed through its doors here at St. Martin’s, under the protection of  St. Benedict’s Cross and medal, with its famous exorcistic prayer and blessing: 

         C.
         S.
N. D. S. M. D.
         M.
         L.

(Vertical) C. S. S. M. L: Crux Sacra Sit Mihi Lux 

[The Holy Cross be my light] 

(Horizontal) N. D. S. M. D: Nunquam Draco Sit Mihi Dux

[Never the Dragon be my guide]

St Benedict in ch. 5 of his Rule on Obedience, identifies Christ as the model of obedience and the way to the Father’s house:

“Those who are possessed by a real desire to find their way to eternal life don’t hesitate to choose the narrow way to which our Lord referred when he said: Narrow is the way that leads to life….No one can doubt that they have as their model that saying of the Lord: I came not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me.” (RB 5, 10-11; 13)

Meditation:

“Christ Jesus, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. 
Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave,
coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, 
he humbled himself, becoming 
Obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Because of this,
God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name
which is above every name,
That at the name of Jesus
Every knee should bend,
Of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
And every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord,
To the glory of God the Father.”

(Phil 2, 6-11)

Amen.

Obedience – “Prefer Nothing to the Love of Christ”

At St. Martin's - both for the University and the Abbey - we daily attest to our Christian foundations by joyfully recognizing Christ as "Lord of all" (RB Prologue 3) and as our center, both personally and as a community. As our living center, it is both the truth of and love for Christ that binds us together. In St. Benedict's language, we recognize Christ by "preferring nothing to the love of Christ" (RB 4, 21).

St. Benedict's Rule is primarily not a speculative nor a mystical document. It has these moments for the attentive reader, for sure, however the text is largely rooted, practical and concrete. Thus, what are the consequences for us in recognizing Christ as our center? Let us first consider this in terms of community and thereafter, we can address the question on the more personal level.

As a community comprising both the Abbey and University, to 'prefer nothing to the love of Christ' is a foundational truth claim. To acknowledge this center, we as a University hold that "truth is one". By taking the search for truth seriously, in the Liberal Arts tradition, we at St. Martin’s affirm that there are many avenues, various sciences, fields of study and human endeavors, all of which aim to lead us to this center – that is, to Christ. In the famous language of the 19th Century English Catholic convert, St. John Henry Newman, he writes in his classic, the Idea of the University, that a University education is primarily intended not so much to "advance" and innovate human knowledge. If it were, then why admit students in the first place and not simply research specialists?  Rather, education at a Liberal Arts University is to widely diffuse a "universal" education to all of its students, an education that is not overly specialized, but rather "according to the whole". Such a holistic education, in common Catholic terminology, combines the perspectives of both "faith and reason". However, beyond the familiar slogan, what this signals is that precisely with Christ as the center, no one person or scientific discipline holds the fullness of truth itself. It is precisely because of this center that gives the reason, the logos for us to dia-logos, to dialogue and interdisciplinarity itself.

Similarly, as a moral claim for our community, 'preferring nothing to the love of Christ' clarifies our understanding of what constitutes "justice" and having "justice as our aim" (Is 1,16) precisely by affirming our common human dignity created in the image and likeness of God. Chapter 53 from St. Benedict's Rule is famous, in these respects, in taking this moral ideal and making it concrete when it concerns hospitality of others, receiving others "just as we would receive Christ himself, because he promised that on the last day he will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me". (RB 53, 1; Mt 25,35)

What then does it mean personally to recognize Christ as our center? For the professed Benedictine monastic living under the vow of obedience to their superior, to the Abbot, St. Benedict again makes it very clear:  it means to "obey an order without delaying for a moment....as though it came from God himself and they cannot endure any delay in carrying out what they have been told to do." (RB 5, 1; 5) For both monastics and non-monastics alike, this indeed can be difficult and a test: do I prefer my will and what I consider to be right and true above all else, or do I "prefer nothing to the love of Christ"?

For the majority of us laity and non-monastics at St. Martin's who do not live under such a vow of obedience, we too can derive much wisdom from Benedict's perspective as he also states: "We should remember also that he [Christ] said to the teachers: ‘whoever listens to you, listens to me.'" (RB 5, 6; Lk 10,16)

Education at a Catholic, Benedictine Liberal Arts University, as alluded to in previous reflections, is not merely informative, not simply a technical education of training in skills. Rather, it is primarily formative of our character, our whole person. In these respects, Benedict is directing our attention not merely to the more legalistic, exterior observance of rules and norms, etc. Instead, he is addressing our interior disposition to learning and our willingness to listen. After all, 'preferring nothing to the love of Christ" is and must remain a free undertaking. It cannot be coerced. Rather, such love of Christ, love of truth and its pursuit, its continual seeking is the very measure for whether or not by engaging in my studies, am I earnestly open when listening to my professors, to my fellow students and colleagues, to one's daily readings and assignments, especially if I disagree with such ideas? Am I willing, or am I largely going through the motions, or perhaps even somewhat resentful, what Benedict calls "murmuring" in my heart? If so, then I will hear nothing more than what is said on the surface of things. Yes, I may even get a good grade, but it will not in the least transform me. My studies will lack the capacity for truth. I will be incapable of hearing the voice of Christ, I will have never visited the center, only staying instead on the peripheries. Again, loving obedience is the measure, as Benedict cautions us: "If obedience is given with a bad will and with murmuring not only in words but even in bitterness of heart, then even though the command may be externally fulfilled it will not be accepted by God, for he can see the resistance in the heart of a murmurer." (RB 5, 17-19)

Meditation:

"He who listens to you, listens to me".

(RB 5, 6; Lk 10,16)

Amen.

Obedience – Obedient freedom and conscience

Last week, the third and final Benedictine vow, ‘obedience’, was introduced and how this vow is not only central to Benedictine spirituality and education, but how it also represents something of monasticism’s timeless, counter-cultural appeal.

In the Prologue to the Rule, one of the over-arching questions that St. Benedict poses is not whether or not one is obedient, but instead: ‘To whom are you obedient towards?’ However, the Benedictine tradition does not regard obedience as merely “blind” nor what perhaps immediately comes to mind, whether that be a military drill sergeant giving commands or a coach blowing a whistle and ordering the team to run an extra set of laps.

Instead, as the English Benedictine Abbot Christopher Jamison writes in Finding Sanctuary: Monastic Steps for Everyday Life:

"‘Obedience’ derives from the Latin word oboedire, which means not only to obey, but also to listen. The prefix ob- means ‘in the direction of’, added to audire, ‘to hear’, which becomes oboedire. So obedience conjures up an image of leaning towards somebody, straining to hear what they are saying. ‘To listen to somebody else’ is both the original meaning of ‘obedience’ and a good working definition." (Jamison, 76)

With this emphasis upon listening and especially listening towards others as the root and original meaning of obedience, Abbot Jamison does an excellent job of introducing to us the realm of moral conscience and how the Benedictine monastic tradition, by prioritizing obedience, seeks to make us free precisely by way of how we exercise obedience, how we exercise such listening in discerning the good and acting upon it:

"The monastic way invites people to listen, and then to choose what voices to follow. This is a double exercise of freedom: the freedom of discernment and the freedom of choosing to follow what has been discerned. Obedience that is blind does not exercise discernment and simply follows the most assertive voices or the voice of the one to whom life has been surrendered….

"Obedient freedom is what the monastic way invites you to experience. Benedict is clear that obedience is not just about doing what the boss says; it is about mutual love. ‘Obedience is a blessing to be shown by all, not only to the abbot but also to one another as brothers, since we know that it is by this obedience that we go to God.” (Rule of Benedict, 71:1)

"In essence, what Benedict is describing is the exercise of conscience. Conscience is not the same as feeling: conscience is the inner process that enables you to listen to voices beyond your own feelings and desires. It is the process by which you freely choose which desires to follow and which to ignore…. To take a deeper example, after many years of marriage, a married person might fall in love with somebody other than their spouse. Feelings might urge them to leave home for the new person, but conscience might tell them to stay. Conscience notices the wider world of other people’s feelings, the vows made to a spouse, the laws of the land. You can obey your feelings, you can obey your conscience, but they are not the same. Your feelings will be one of the factors that conscience considers and you ignore them at your peril, but they are not the only factor. To follow feelings blindly is as dangerous as blind obedience to anything else. Blind rage, blind fear, blind lust: the intensity of such feelings only makes them more likely to mislead people into actions that will be regretted later. Intense feeling is not the same as conscience. The monastic way urges the conscientious exercise of choice leading to obedient freedom. The belief that you are free and in control if you follow your feelings is widespread and the monastic way challenges that belief.”

(Jamison, 78-9)

Meditation:

‘Obedience is a blessing to be shown by all, not only to the abbot, but also to one another as brothers, since we know that it is by this obedience that we go to God.”

(RB 71,1)

Amen.

Obedience – “Listen”

Are you exhausted? Seemingly always running low on energy?

It is not simply moralistic finger-wagging to recognize the reality of things that when we habitually place ourselves in the center, our desires and yearning for life, our desire to know, to innovate, to excel, to seek for happiness, these desires remain as robust as ever. However, with ourselves in the center, we walk around ourselves in a constant circle, leaving both ourselves and our desires frustrated and exhausted. As St. Bernard of Clairvaux describes it, by encircling around ourselves, we frustrate the natural end of our desires, which is not in constant “consumption, but in consummation”, in greater union with God and with others.

To you, who are both tired, exhausted and frustrated, St. Benedict has a ‘word’ for you, for all of us sinners, in fact: “It is high time for us to arise from our sleepiness.” (RB Prologue 8) Each and every day, will we listen not simply to ourselves, but to others? Will we listen? “If you hear his voice today, do not harden your hearts.” (Ps 95, 8; RB Prologue 10) But will we listen, listen well and act in accordance? In other words, will we be obedient?

The third and final Benedictine vow, obedience, is just as counter-cultural today as it was when St. Benedict first uttered these opening lines in his Prologue to the Rule:

“Listen [Obsculta] carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice. The labor of obedience will bring you back to him from whom you had drifted through the sloth of disobedience. This message of mine is for you, then, if you are ready to give up your own will, once and for all, and armed with the strong and noble weapons of obedience to do battle for the true King, Christ the Lord.” (RB Prologue 1-3)

If we are indeed ‘listening carefully’, these words should rouse us, like the sudden shock of a cold shower. That is, after all, partially their intended purpose. By listening carefully, Benedict is asking us: ‘To whom are we primarily listening to and being obedient? Is it my own will that I am primarily obedient to, or is it your will, O Lord? Benedict aims to shock us out of a certain tired, exhausted adherence to our own wills, constantly circling around ourselves. “Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes their fancy. Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden.” (RB 1, 8 -9)

But Benedict does not merely seek to shock, he also seeks to instruct. This is essential to obedience, which we will explore in greater depth for these next few weeks. Namely: ‘obedience’ is grounded not simply in passive adherence to rules and authority; rather, it is always coupled with listening and hearing. To obey, from the Latin, ob – audire, means to “hear or listen to”. This is why the first word in Benedict’s Rule is “Listen”. There is no real education apart from both humility (in recognizing, like Socrates, I know that I do not know) as well as obedience. Especially an education rooted not merely in the acquisition of data, of knowledge, but of wisdom. In and through obedience, Benedict teaches, we learn how to actually listen to others, not simply ourselves, and ultimately to the promptings of God.

To begin our meditations upon this central Benedictine vow, let us now consider how obedience is defined and lived out both within the monastery, and the university.

Obedience: a commitment to listening and consequent action

In monastic contexts…. Benedictine life is unthinkable without obedience, a value that cuts against the grain of much in contemporary life. It is often forgotten that the root of the word obedience is found in audire, “to listen.” When St. Benedict begins the Rule with the exhortation “Listen,” he emphasizes the stance of obedience required of all who seek wisdom. He asks for obedience not only to the spiritual head of the monastery, but to the other members of the community (RB 71:1-2). Each has something of value to say about true fullness of life. For the monastic, obedience is putting into practice what is learned by listening to the other “with the ear of the heart” (RB Prol. 1). Centuries of Benedictine experience show that such listening requires a willingness to submit to imperatives outside of the self, something that is never easy to do, but that is deeply rewarding.

In university contexts…. Teaching and learning are impossible without obedience, without listening to others with the awareness that no one possesses all truth, or knows everything worth knowing. In intellectual inquiry, obedience means respecting the integrity of disciplinary methods of study and maintaining fidelity to the evidence, wherever it leads. Obedience helps to form an intellectual community, drawing on a number of disciplines, respecting the methodologies proper to each. All members of a Benedictine educational institution are encouraged to work to understand and respect the viewpoints of others, to adhere to standards of excellence in thinking and communicating. Learning to listen well and respond deeply to others and the world is a prerequisite for growing in wisdom and it requires courage and perseverance. 

Meditation:

“If you hear His voice today, do not harden your hearts”

(Ps 95, 7-8; RB Prologue 10)

Amen.

Stability – “The Divine Presence is everywhere”

Before we conclude these reflections upon the second Benedictine vow, let us first recall once more what has been previously said about ‘stability’.

First, the vow of stability was described as the opposite pole from conversatio, noting that much of the Christian spiritual life is often lived within view of navigating tensions and complexities of life in a fruitful, sustainable, productive manner. It is necessary to have clear, simple, undiluted aims, to daily recognize them and be unwavering by not losing sight of such goals. To be, as Christ speaks of this tension in the Gospel of Matthew, “simple as doves”. However, it is another thing entirely to live amid the concrete complexities of daily life in pursuing such goals. Here is where the importance of stability emerges, both in terms of perseverance, as well as in being prudent and “shrewd as serpents”.

Secondly, we can form a deep appreciation for stability and the ‘need for roots’ precisely amid times of personal and societal instability. Historically, the collapse of the Roman empire, with all of its instability, wars, disease and upheaval has had an incalculable influence upon both St. Benedict personally, as well as with the Rule and Benedictine spirituality more generally. Analogously, so too can this be said of us today and our experience for the need for rootedness, as Pope Francis famously said in Florence in 2015: “We are not living an era of change but a change of era.”

Third, stability, not only concerns being rooted, committed to a place and to a community of people and its distinct way of life. Stability equally entails a temporal dimension, namely a rhythm of life that is both life-giving and sustainable precisely in its ability to distinguish one’s priorities from that of one’s daily ‘to-do’ lists. This requires a certain flexible ordering of one’s day, with the Benedictine monk, perhaps somewhat surprisingly, as a model of long-term stable productivity, with a “full agenda, but never busy”.

To conclude, it can now be said that as important and virtuous as all of these varying aspects of stability may well be, they are as good as “building one’s house on sand” (Mt 7, 26) apart from the very source of stability itself, the immutability and impassability of God. In his Rule, Benedict writes that “divine presence is everywhere” (RB 19,1). When we reflect upon this permanence of this truth with the eyes of stability, two common place sayings immediately pop up. Not only does it mitigate against becoming envious, jealous and daydreaming that the ‘grass is greener on the other side’. Moreover, because God, the sum total of all that is good is to be sought and found in all things, no more or no less here than there, why not then “bloom where you are planted”?

The goodness of this truth of stability is beautifully reflected in the monk’s chant at Midday Prayer: “Lord God and Maker of all things, Creation is upheld by you. While all must change and know decay, You are unchanging, always new.”

Meditation:

“Christ ever with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me
Christ within me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me
Christ to my right side, Christ to my left
Christ in his breadth, Christ in his length, Christ in depth.
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me
Christ is the mouth of every man who speaks to me
Christ in every eye that sees me
Christ in every ear that hears me.”

(from St. Patrick’s Lorica or ‘Deer’s Cry)

Stability – "A full agenda, but never busy"

Stability, as a primary Benedictine vow, not only concerns being rooted, committed to a place and to a community of people and its distinct way of life. Stability equally entails a temporal dimension, namely a rhythm of life that is both life-giving and sustainable.

For monks, this includes fixed hours of praying the psalms, work and spiritual reading - lectio divina. Moreover, there is a deep, enduring wisdom of bookending one’s day in prayer and gratitude to God. Stability and faithfulness to God, who is always faithful to us, is an end in-of-itself, thus it needs no other justification. Whereas the explicit value of a stable, daily rhythm is most clear on days when that rhythm is lacking. Perhaps you have overslept your alarm. Or the things that need to get done seemingly keeps on piling up, like an endless weight on your shoulders. You become easily stressed, restless, perhaps short-tempered, quickly pointing out the faults of others, while ignorant of your own failings. In short, for such days when one is constantly playing ‘catch-up’, all of your worse, self-destructive tendencies start to become magnified and readily apparent to everyone around you.

Now, we should not falsely idealize our fellow Benedictine monastics. They too, like all of us, have those days wherein they can easily become stressed and disordered. However, it is the Benedictine Rule, as a way of life, that does not produce instantaneous results or quick fixes. Instead, the genius of the Rule is how it gradually, yet decisively transforms such monks and nuns into a model of productivity that is both stable and enduring. This may well seem like a highly counter-intuitive claim, but in fact it is true, especially when we view things not by conventional, short-term analysis, or the quarterly, the semester, the fiscal year, but in the long term.

There are perhaps a few key insights for translating such stability, especially for non-monastics. (1) The clear and consistent ability to distinguish one’s priorities in distinction with the various tasks and the daily ‘to-do’ list. Doing so is far easier said than done. For Benedictines, it is unambiguous: their primary goal as a monk is quaerere deum [the search for God]. However, it is keeping this daily, front and center as one’s central goal which is the challenge. Not allowing one’s various to-do lists, which of course are important, to overwhelm and become a substitute for one’s actual priorities. This is what it means to order one’s day, what the Dutch Benedictine oblate, Wil Derkse cleverly calls: “Benedictine time management: a full agenda, but never busy.”

(2) Another key insight is to order one’s day in a realistic manner, combining both order and flexibility:

“The little steps toward better time management need to be realistic. The copying of the rhythm of the abbey with six or seven daily times of prayer, a few hours of lectio divina, fixed recreation periods, etc., in a reasonably demanding business life or in a family - that is unrealistic and produces only frustration. This is about finding a rhythm that fits you. One needs to be like a good abbot for oneself: not making any demands that will destroy you, but on the other hand put the bar high enough so that there is a daily challenge.” (Derkse, The Rule of Benedict for Beginners, 72)

Lastly, in order for one’s daily rhythm and ordering of the day to actually be stable and not yielding to burn out, such stability must be active, dynamic and regularly reexamined and not merely passively adhered to, as when going through the motions of life in a largely inattentive, disengaged manner. Again, Derkse observes, this time speaking directly to professors:

“You may arrive on time as a teacher in your class, having prepared a lesson, having checked the papers, maintaining reasonably good discipline, while your heart is no longer in it and the spirit is gone. You don’t study your subject anymore; neither do you widen your horizon in other ways. And those who no longer cultivate intellectual excitement cannot inspire it in others; it is a negative spiral. What might help to get beyond this is in some ways obvious: start studying in your subject again and widen your horizon by orienting yourself on worthwhile sources. For example, you might reserve a half-hour every day for absorbing yourself in your profession and free a quarter of an hour for something where you might pay close attention to something enjoyable: poetry, music (not background music of course), a spiritual text….This habit should be kept up for a few years. Your students will notice your renewed commitment.” (Derkse, 24)

Similar advice, namely the ordering of one’s day in cultivating greater attention, is also given to students, who may also feel at times that they are merely going through the motions:

“Practicing alertness will gradually bear fruit. If you sit in a class that seems dull, though you would have preferred to stay in your comfortable bed, you may participate attentively. If it is done attentively, it automatically becomes less dull, and when your involvement and gradually nurtured interest prompts a relevant question, that might stimulate the teacher and your fellow students to heighten their own alertness and attention.” (Derkse, 25)

Meditation

It is good to give thanks to the Lord,
To sing praise to your name, Most High,
To proclaim your love at daybreak
And your faithfulness in the night."

(Ps 92, 2-3)

Amen.

Stability – The need for roots

Any earnest consideration of the value of stability and just how much it is valued by Benedictine’s throughout the centuries, must begin with the sheer instability of the times and the collapse of the Roman empire that marked St. Benedict’s own life. Here is a very brief history.

“Benedict was born in Nursia, central Italy, around 480. The date is significant because only four years before, in 476, the line of the Western emperors ended with the deposition of the boy emperor, Romulus Augustulus. Control of the Western Empire passed to Odoacer, a barbarian king, and seventeen years later following his defeat in battle, to another barbarian, Theodoric the Ostrogoth. Under Theodoric, Italy enjoyed seventeen years of strong government and peace. His death in 526, however ushered in a period of turmoil and war – far worse than anything that had preceded it. The emperor of the East, Justinian, seeing his chance, resolved to recover Italy. For the next twenty years the so-called Gothic War raged across the Italian peninsula, causing untold havoc and destruction. Benedict was thus born at a turning point in history, and lived through one of the great periods of transition in which the face of the world changed. He witnessed political instability, widespread famine and war, and it is against this dark backcloth that his Rule is set.” (Benedictine Handbook, 227)

One cannot emphasize enough the influence that the collapse of the Roman empire, with all of its instability and upheaval had upon the formation of both Benedict personally, as well as with the Rule and Benedictine spirituality more generally. On the surface, instability erupts in conflict and wars, political corruption, disease, social disorder and chaos. While spiritually, the longer term effects may be seen in terms of excess, decadence and hedonism; in attitudes of cynicism and jadedness; and lastly, in a certain spiritual depression and lethargy that can never finish what one has started. Since, for the cynic, one simply asks: ‘What’s the point, anyways?’ This is precisely why Benedict recommends that “every time you begin a good work, you must pray to God most earnestly to bring it to perfection.” (RB, Prologue 4)

Writing at another point of incredible instability and a turning point in history, the French Jewish writer, philosopher, political thinker and mystic, Simone Weil (1909 -1943) shortly before her untimely death during WWII wrote on stability and how “uprootedness is by far the most dangerous malady to which human societies are exposed” and the need to recover it in her work, The Need for Roots. In a key passage, Weil writes:

“To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul. It is one of the hardest to define. A human being has roots by virtue of his real, active and natural participation in the life of a community, which preserves in living shape certain particular treasures of the past and certain particular expectations of the future…. Every human being needs to have multiple roots. It is necessary for him to draw well-nigh the whole of his moral, intellectual and spiritual life by way of the environment of which he forms a natural part.”

Meditation

Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
Nor stand in the way of sinners,
nor sit in company with scoffers.
Rather, the law of the LORD is his joy;
and on his law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree
planted near streams of water,
that yields its fruit in season;
Its leaves never wither;
whatever he does prospers.
But not so are the wicked, not so!
They are like chaff driven by the wind.

(Ps 1, 1-4)

Amen

Stability – Conversatio's opposite pole

The second Benedictine vow is stability, which can be regarded as the opposite pole to conversatio.

The spiritual life, when rooted in the centrality of God and living one’s life towards the unwavering simplicity of this goal, is equally about navigating the tensions and complexities of daily life in a fruitful manner. From ‘contemplation and action’; to being ‘in the world, but not of the world’; ‘ora et labora [prayer and work]’, these are but some of the ways to frame this tension. In the Gospel of St. Matthew, Jesus speaks of this tension, when sending the apostles out on mission to be both prudent and “shrewd as serpents and simple as doves.” (Mt 10,16) Likewise, the wisdom of the Benedictine tradition integrates these poles. It is weary of excessively oppositional, one-sided approaches and instead, it follows Benedict’s injunction to “seek out peace and pursue it”. (RB, Prologue, n.17)

See how this plays out concretely. As we previously learned, conversatio entails the commitment and ‘fidelity to a monastic way of life’. However, if pursued in isolation, like any ideal, this can become easily idealized and abstract, like an impossible standard that leaves one uneasy and restless, disgruntled and prone to distraction, tempted to think how much better one’s life would be in this or that place. If this description seems eerily similar to many of the trappings of social media you would not be far off, while in monastic tradition, this is commonly known as ‘acedia’ or the ‘noon-day demon’. This is where stability comes in, as a natural counter-balance to the movement, change and the ongoing call to ‘become who you are’ that is the life of conversatio. When it comes to stability, emphasis is clearly centered upon the concrete, the particular, and the importance of being rooted. In its most obvious and literal meaning, the Benedictine vow of stability reminds the monk that not only have they promised “fidelity to a monastic way of life” in general, but concretely, to this place, to these people and the way of life lived in this particular monastery. Thus, as complementary poles of the spiritual life, if the life of conversatio can be likened to the ascending of a mountain, then stability asks the following question: ‘who can remain on your holy mountain?” (Ps 15, 1)

Before we expand upon the various facets of the vow of stability, let us first consider a its definition both within and outside the monastery.

Stability: commitment to the daily life of this place, its heritage and tradition

In monastic terms…. Stability shapes a Benedictine monastery. All of its members commit themselves to seeking God. They resolve to pursue this, their heart’s deepest desire, together, day in and day out, in good times and in bad, throughout the entire span of their lives. 

In university terms…. Benedictine educational institutions put great energy into cultivating lasting relationships between students, faculty and staff. We seek to embed a vigorous exchange of ideas within the pattern of life on campus, recognizing the shared human standing of all. We strive to foster a pervasive commitment to share our intellectual passions, our bewilderments and breakthroughs with one another. We do this because we believe that persevering together in the pursuit of wisdom – as opposed to engaging one another only enough to achieve private understanding – builds strong and lasting relationships and makes remarkably powerful growth possible for all.

Meditation

“Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.”

(Jn 15, 4)

Amen.

Conversatio – "It is bound to be narrow at the outset..."

Saint Benedict famously concludes the Prologue of his Rule by seeing the monastery as a “school for the Lord’s service”. In order for it to be an effective ‘school’, he writes:

"[W]e hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing burdensome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and safeguard love. Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love.” (RB, Prologue, 45-49)

In addition to over 1500-years of continued Benedictine life, countless commentators have recognized a profound degree of moral realism and practicality that St. Benedict captures in his Rule that has arguably made it so influential and long lasting over the centuries. Take a moment and re-read the quoted passage once more, however this time notice here the arc of progression in the life of conversatio that illustrates such moral realism. At first, he cautions against ‘nothing harsh, nothing burdensome’, just a ‘little strictness’, a touch of discipline both to counteract faults that we all bring with us, but also in order to ‘safeguard love’ and preserve one’s gifts and talents to properly grow unhindered by such faults. Observe the incredible degree of nuance here, especially how Benedict cautions against overly drastic, swift measures, even with the best intentions in mind, which often cause more harm than good.

And yet, let us also be honest: even with a mild dosage of discipline, experience dictates that struggle will invariably ensue, there will be grumbling and a fair amount of protest, as the challenge will be experienced as demanding and too ‘narrow at the outset’. Benedict remains undaunted, as he echoes Christ’s command to “enter through the narrow gate” (Mt 7, 13). Here too, Benedict encourages us to stay the course and ‘not be daunted’ in the hope that our conversatio may one day virtuously become a habit of being, one that broadens and ever-expands with “our hearts overflowing”.

The implication of Benedict’s moral realism is that we are to cultivate something of a ‘beginner’s mind’, in which conversatio is not a one-time occurrence, but rather a life-long process of making a new beginning each and every day in removing the various obstacles that prevent us from otherwise living towards our goal, one that entails that we “share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom”.

Anyone who sets out to strive for a new virtuous goal or resolution fully knows the difficulty of simply starting, let alone persevering in such a resolution. How many New Years’ resolutions actually see the light of day past early spring? Yet herein lies the practical genius of Benedict’s Rule. While he fully recognizes the initial difficulty of living a life of conversatio such that we need the support of others, of community, to keep us honest and not discouraged, the virtue of such a life does not consist in it simply being difficult, as though it were the struggle itself of such ‘hard work’ is what makes something specifically good. Rather, as Josef Pieper beautifully writes in his highly influential, post-WWII essay, “Leisure”: “the Middle Ages…said something about virtue that is no longer so readily understood…they held that virtue meant: ‘mastering our natural bent’.”

In other words, virtue consists not in the struggle to master difficult things simply because they are hard. Instead, it consists in cultivating our natural gifts such that, overtime and through habit, stability and perseverance, that which is initially experienced as demanding, difficult and “narrow at the outset” will increasingly become “effortless”, much like the skilled musician, or the accomplished athlete, who in a highly anticipated ‘solo performance’ or in the final minutes of the game, makes it look just so easy. For St. Benedict, this is the promise of a virtuous life of conversatio – freedom. Freedom in heeding God’s calling and realizing our unique potential.

Meditation:

“Let us get up then, at long last, for the Scriptures rouse us when they say: ‘It is high time for us to arise from sleep’ (Rom 13,11; RB, Prologue, 8)

Amen.

Conversatio – Purity of heart

Is my heart ‘pure’?

At root, Benedictine life poses this question over and over throughout the dailiness of life, in matters both important and mundane. How though can one begin to discern, let alone answer such a question with any reasonable degree of accuracy, let alone honesty?

The question can be measured by one of the well-known Benedictine Mottos – that in all things God may be glorified - which in the Rule (RB 57,7) Benedict quotes from the First Letter of St. Peter in the New Testament. (1Pt 4,11) This motto, abbreviated by the acronym U.I.O.G.D., is taken directly from the Latin translation: ut in omnibus glorificetur Deus.

To ‘glorify God’ by one’s life is a foundational goal of moral, Christian living, with purity of heart becoming the means to assess how I am living towards this goal. Herein the uniquely Benedictine emphasis comes to the fore with its stress of – in all things. It is not merely in one’s success and the highlights of one’s life, whether that be professionally, academically, athletically, etc., that are deserving to give glory to God. But in all things seemingly mundane and certainly not noteworthy. Here too the challenge of conversatio is felt.

But why ‘purity’? What is meant here is less a moral catalogue of things that are either more pure or impure. Rather, purity indicates the degree of my focus and attention. Am I aiming adequately towards a clear goal for which I am striving and seeking after in glorifying God and serving others or am I, more often than not, seeking after a mixture of competing and conflicting goals, turning around in a vicious circle with myself at the center? Psalm 24 poses the question of purity of heart in terms of ascending a mountain:

“Who shall climb the mountain of the Lord?
Who shall stand in his holy place?
The man with clean hands and pure heart
Who desires not worthless things
What has not sworn so as to deceive his neighbor.

He shall receive blessings from the Lord
And reward from the God who saves him.
Such are the men who seek him
Seek the face of the God of Jacob.”

In the Psalm’s poetic metaphor, purity is described as arduous, much like climbing a mountain. Why is it so difficult? Because in seeking purity of heart, one reflectively recognizes that my heart is filled with a chaotic, riotous mixture of judgment and jealousy, mixed motives and more often than not, a lack of attention: in short, my heart is anything but pure.

Benedictine Abbot Christopher Jamison OSB summarizes the task of continually seeking for purity of heart as the very purpose of monastic life that “enables us to see God in everything and hence to be aware of ‘You’ at all times. As the prophet Jeremiah says: “You, O Lord, are in the midst of us and we are called by your name.’” (Jamison, Finding Sanctuary, 55) In this manner, we can escape the vicious circle of constantly circling around ourselves in a life of continual consumption and fleeting gratification and instead, we can climb, we can aspire and actually make progress up that mountain in pursuit of those goals wherein meaning and purpose reside.

Meditation

“Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God” (Mt 5, 8)

Amen.

Conversatio – A Benedictine vow

When a Benedictine monk or nun makes vows, they do not promise what many people think of as the traditional vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. Those are the vows of orders such as Franciscans, who sprang up in the Middle Ages, some seven hundred years after Benedict. The vows that Benedict invites his monks to take are those of Obedience, Stability and one that is impossible to translate from Latin, Conversatio morum. It is easy to think that this last one reads conversion, in which case it would mean ‘conversion’; but scholars now agree that is not what Benedict intended. If you look up the word ‘conversation’ is some dictionaries, you find a clue to the meaning of conversatio. There you discover that the first and now obsolete meaning of ‘conversation’ is ‘living with somebody’, and that the second but now normal meaning derives from this – namely ‘speaking with somebody’. So this Benedictine vow is a resolution to live with others, specifically with other monks and hence to live the monastic way of life, with the implication of common ownership [i.e, the vow of ‘poverty’] and celibacy [the vow of ‘chastity’]. It is striking that all three Benedictine vows relate to community life….”

How then does this unique vow apply to those of us who have not taken such a vow? Abbot Christopher Jamison explains by showing the links between the trust and stability of community life and how it is sustained by good conversation and dialogue, which is foundational to a Catholic, liberal-arts education here at Saint Martin’s:

“Conversation is necessary for community to be real. Even though Benedict commends silence as a background, serious and deep conversation is also an essential part of spiritual living…. Benedict is rather puritan in his attitude to frivolous conversation, but…he is equally clear about the need for good conversation…. Good conversation requires not only good speaking but good listening. So in fact ‘restraint of speech’(the title of Benedict’s chapter on silence) is the essential corollary of good speaking, not its opposite. This is real community living and it is essential if human beings are to be their best selves. A community that generates a set of conventions for good conversation sets people free to give of their individual best.”

(Abbot Christopher Jamison, from “Finding Sanctuary: Monastic Steps for Everyday Life”)

Meditation

“Listen carefully, my son, to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart. This is advice from a father who loves you; welcome it, and faithfully put it into practice.”

(Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue, 1)

Amen.

Conversatio – Forming and transforming

We will begin this series, Wisdom from the Rule, by considering a diversity of sources and perspectives on “Conversatio”, our University’s chosen theme for this academic year. Scholars attest that there is a rich degree of nuance and ambiguity in this term and we will consider these ambiguities for sure. But first, let us keep it simple and straightforward. According to current usage, 'conversatio' is translated as "fidelity to the monastic way of life" and it constitutes one of the three vows all Benedictines make in becoming a monk: stability, conversatio and obedience.

How then does this unique vow apply both within a monastic context here at St. Martin’s Abbey, and, by extension, how does it apply to our Catholic and Benedictine University here at St. Martin’s in forming who we are and transforming who we are called to become?

In monastic terms…. The aim of life for Benedictines is the same as it is for all Christians – to be transformed in every part of one’s life so that God’s very image, in which each has been created, becomes palpable and transparent.  The Benedictine word for this way of life is conversatio, the process of letting go in day-to-day life of self-centered preoccupations and false securities so that the divine life at the core of one’s being becomes manifest in a trustworthy pattern of living. Conversatio is a commitment to engage in practices that over a lifetime bring about conversion into the likeness of Christ and, in particular, Christ’s giving of self for others. This transformation proceeds according to small steps; and it is tested in unexpected ways over a lifetime.  To come to fruition conversatio requires stability, discipline, faithfulness and resilience. 

In university terms…. Benedictine colleges and universities attempt to call all members of the campus community to move out of their comfort zone for the sake of learning and integrity.  We are not afraid to focus on habits of mind that will require many years to develop.  In curricular and co-curricular programs we seek to challenge realities we often take for granted, to foster intellectual and personal breakthroughs, and to cultivate habits of mind that will transform students, faculty and staff alike, nurturing deep learning and generosity over a lifetime.

(From the ABCU “Education within the Benedictine Wisdom Tradition”)

Meditation

Your way of acting should be different from the world’s way.” 

(Rule of St. Benedict, 4.20)

Amen.

Welcome to the weekly series, Wisdom from the Rule

This is a new initiative from the Benedictine Institute of Saint Martin's University, featuring a series of spiritual reflections surrounding the Rule of St. Benedict, Benedictine Spirituality more broadly and certain foundational Christian and Catholic themes that are particularly relevant to the life and mission of our university here at Saint Martin's.

Throughout the semester, a new Wisdom from the Rule reflection will be sent out on the first day of the new academic week, as well as occasionally distributed on various social media platforms. An archive of previous reflections will soon be available to easily access on the webpage for the Benedictine Institute.

Whoever you are – student, faculty or staff member, monk, oblate or friend of our university, these weekly reflections are for you. Wherever you are in terms of your own spiritual journey, intellectual and moral quest for truth and understanding, meaning and purpose, these weekly reflections are for you.

Why the Wisdom from the Rule? The human person, regardless of one’s specifically articulated beliefs or lack thereof, naturally remains uneasy, anxious and at unrest when failing to grasp the why of things.

For this is a question not of knowledge, but of wisdom. We are created to seek out this why, to seek after wisdom, purpose and the meaning of things. One can be very well informed, full of education and credentials, and yet lack wisdom. “Indeed, you love truth in the heart; then in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom.” (Ps 51, 6) Moreover, the Rule of St. Benedict and over 1500 years of Benedictine experience continues to attest that it offers a way of life that is both “ever ancient” in terms of its permanence and stability, as well as “ever new” in its continued flexibility and adaptability amid vast changes and upheavals throughout the centuries.

St. Benedict begins his Rule with “Listen” [Obsculta].

The question for you is how will you respond?