Living The Rule - RB Prologue 20-28

Back in the early days, back when I was beginning the great transition of embracing the precepts of the Rule of Saint Benedict and Latin Rite Catholicism, I brought with me the tools that I picked up during my education and formation as an Evangelical Protestant minister.

I relied heavily on these skills. I can, looking back, see how these important skills were conditioned by the theology and practices of my alma mater, something that was replete with denominational biases.

I had, in all my prior religious education and vocational formation, never heard of the Benedictine practice that came to be known as lectio divina.

In lectio divina the Sacred Scriptures are not treated as a text to be studied but rather as the Living Word to be absorbed, internalized, and lived out in life as a reflection of the Life that is the Living Word. Guido II, prior of the Grand Chartreuse in the latter part of the 12^th Century, set forth the four basic steps in lectio divina – read, meditate, pray, contemplate – steps that take us beyond the words on the page for a personal encounter with the Word within and beyond the page.

I still rely upon those skills taught by the doctorate holding professors that I sat under during my education and initial formation as a Protestant minister. I discover though, that at this stage and age in my life and ongoing spiritual formation, I spend more time in lectio divina where I encounter the Great Doctor of my soul, than in time spent dissecting and analyzing the Sacred Scriptures and other wisdom literature.[1]

An intellectual understanding of the written word is a good thing. Encountering and embracing the Living Word is a much better thing. Personally encountering and embracing Christ is the golden kernel at the heart and center of monastic spirituality. The truth of the matter is that encountering and embracing Christ is the heart and center of Christianity.

The written words of Saint Benedict in the Rule, when approached as lectio divina, lead me deeper into this reality.

“Behold the Lord points out the way of life to us by His own fatherly affection. Let our loins then be girt with faith and the observance of good works, and let us, gospelled, pursue His paths, that we may be worthy to see Him Who has called us unto His own kingdom. (1 Thess. 2:12) But if our wish be to have a dwelling-place in His kingdom, let us remember it can by no means be attained unless one run thither by good deeds. For, with the prophet, let us ask the Lord, saying to Him: “Lord, who will dwell in Thy tabernacle, and who will rest in Thy holy mount?” (Psalm 15:1) After putting this question, brethren, let us listen to our Lord showing us in answer the way to that same tabernacle by saying: “He who lives blamelessly and does justice; he who speaks truth from his heart; he who has kept his tongue from guile; he who has done his neighbour no evil and has accepted no slander against his neighbour” (Psalm 15:2-3): he who has brought to naught the malignant slanderer the devil, rejecting from his heart’s thoughts him and his efforts to persuade him; and who has taken hold of his suggestions or ever they be come to maturity and has dashed them against the Rock which is Christ.(Psalm 15:4, Psalm 137:9)” [2]

Abbot Benedict instructs me to be ever mindful and to always look to the Lord’s own example as he shows us the love of the Father for us.

“Behold the Lord points out the way of life to us by His own fatherly affection.”

We are, this side of the Salvific Event, the recipients of the very best that the Father could possibly offer us. Everything before this Event was only signs and types that were fulfilled when Christ proclaimed, “It is finished.”[3] The Father, through his Son, completed the divine work necessary for the redemption of fallen humanity. What more, with the exception of Pentecost, could the Father possibly do to prove his love to us?

God withheld nothing of himself in order to redeem and restore me from the fallen condition of my own humanity, a condition that I have yielded to all too often.[4] In the light of his Offering and Gift, there is a question that I must ask myself. Am I giving my best to the One that gave his best for me?

The answer to the question, if I am honest with my reply, is poignant. I cannot reply with a resounding yes. I yet have a long way to go before I can reply to the question with an affirmative response. I will not delude myself, or anyone else. In being honest with myself I also think about how the Rule leaves no margin for easy self-justification that leads to self-righteousness. I cannot claim what I am not. What I can claim, I will not use to exalt who I am.

The best answer that I can give to the question is “Lord, I am trying. Have mercy on me a sinner.”

Let our loins then be girt with faith and the observance of good works, and let us, gospelled, pursue His paths, that we may be worthy to see Him Who has called us unto His own kingdom. (1 Thess. 2:12) But if our wish be to have a dwelling-place in His kingdom, let us remember it can by no means be attained unless one run thither by good deeds.

I did, at first, have a few misgivings about using this older English translation of the Rule. I am, despite those misgivings, finding it refreshing. It has to be read slower and expresses things in a way that causes me to mull them over in my mind and reflect on what is being said.

Gospelled?

Am I gospelled? Am I deeply immersed in the teaching of Christ our Lord and model? Am I walking in his sandals today, viewing and feeling for this world of people as he views and feels for them through his eyes and heart full of compassion? Am I walking through this life in a manner worthy of God, a manner that honestly with confidence and assurance validates the prayer … "into your hands I commend my spirit."

Am I honestly gospelled? Though I have chosen to sit at the Master’s feet and run thither on the path that leads to life, I admit that I am not gospelled enough and need more tutoring. There is much yet about me that looks too much like me, and that gets in the way of others seeing Christ in me.

Abbot Benedict reminds me that faith necessarily responds with works born of genuine love.

He sees prayer, referred to as the Opus Dei (Work of God) as the central and primary work of those that enter his monastery. Nothing is to interfere with this central and primary work.[5] Praying the canonical hours in the monastery, something that can be historically traced to the First Century Church, characterizes the lives of those that follow the precepts in the Rule.

Oblates living in the world are not bound to keep all the canonical hours. We are, however, encouraged to keep as many of them as we can, especially morning and evening three days each week, using an approved breviary. In my Oblate formation at Saint Bernard Abbey, I was directed to follow the guidelines for Oblates set forth by Saint Vincent Archabbey (pdf available online for download).

We can easily view prescribed times for structured prayer as an obligation to perform – something viewed as “supposed to do so I do it.” "Supposed to do and love to do" reside in worlds apart from each other. I am not sure just when I made the transition from supposed to do to love to do. I am confident though, that it had something to do with going through a long and dry season where maintaining the discipline of this precept was poorly lacking.

For, with the prophet, let us ask the Lord, saying to Him: “Lord, who will dwell in Thy tabernacle, and who will rest in Thy holy mount?” After putting this question, brethren, let us listen to our Lord showing us in answer the way to that same tabernacle by saying: “He who lives blamelessly and does justice; he who speaks truth from his heart; he who has kept his tongue from guile; he who has done his neighbour no evil and has accepted no slander against his neighbour”: he who has brought to naught the malignant slanderer the devil, rejecting from his heart’s thoughts him and his efforts to persuade him; and who has taken hold of his suggestions or ever they be come to maturity and has dashed them against the Rock which is Christ.

Who will dwell for all eternity in heavenly fellowship with Christ and his saints?

I cannot help but to think of the Parable of the Sheep and Goats,[6] that one day the Great Divide will take place, and, until then, we all meet with our eventual appointments when our physical life has expired.[7]

Abbot Benedict knew the enemy well. He reminds those enquiring at the door of his monastery that Satan is real and that ours is indeed a personal spiritual warfare for our soul. He reminds us that our hearts (appetites and affections) and our minds (intellect and reasoning) are the battlefield where the war rages.[8]

Eternity is timeless. The closest thing that I can do to imagine what eternity is like is to look at the starlit sky at night. It goes until I can see no more. Then, at the point where there is nothing more that I can see, it continues for infinity. What, in this life, is worth losing eternity in the peace and fellowship of God? What, in this life, is worth gaining an eternity completely void of the peace and fellowship of God?

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[1] 2 Timothy 2:15

[2] RB Prologue 20-28

[3] John 19:30

[4] Psalm 51:5

[5] Rule 43:1-3

[6] Matthew 25:31-46

[7] Hebrews 9:27

[8] Ephesians 6:10-19

Monk Music - Ales Diei Nuntius

One of the things that I appreciate about the Monastic Diurnal, one of the breviaries that I use as a tool in praying in harmony with Benedictine tradition, is its inclusion of ancient hymns. 

The Ales Diei Nuntius is traditionally sung each Tuesday at Lauds.

Written by Prudentius (348-413) who was born in Saragossa, Spain, of a wealthy family. After a brilliant public career, he retired from public life to lead a life of asceticism and devotion to God. It was then that he composed his poems which have earned him the reputation of being one of the first great Christian poets of the Latin West.

The winged herald of the day

Proclaims the morn’s approaching ray:

And Christ the Lord our souls excites,

And so to endless life invites.

Take up thy bed to each he cries

Who sick or wrapped in slumber lies

And chase and just and sober stand

And watch; my coming is at hand.

With earnest cry, with tearful care,

Call we the Lord to hear our prayer:

While supplications, pure and deep,

Forbids each chastened heart to sleep.

Do thou, O Christ, our slumbers wake;

Do thou the chains of darkness break:

Purge thou our former sins away,

And in our souls new light display.

All laud to God the Father be;

All praise, eternal Son, to thee;

All glory, as is ever meet,

To God the Holy Paraclete.

Amen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqsUthYHgAg

Living The Rule - Prologue 14-19

The world that we live in is a rough place. It seems that the truth seeking needle has completely fallen off the spindle of the moral compass.

There is a serious problem when the unconscionable is no longer viewed as reproachable.[1] I continually remind myself that the fruit of ideologies will always serve toward one of two directions. One is away from God and his holy ideals for living life. The other is toward God and his holy ideals for living life. I also continually remind myself that the onus is on me to choose whether I will ascend or descend the moral spiral.

Benedict, in the previous verses (Prologue 11), references the Seven Churches.[2]

Only two of the seven came through scrutiny without a scolding and warning from the Lord. The other five had some serious issues that had grown up within their ranks and in their way of doing things. Ephesus had become utilitarian and perfunctory. The church at Pergamum was full of idolatry and immorality. Thyatira had allowed idolatry and immorality to take root and grow. Sardis had a profession of faith but no works to back up their profession. Laodicea had grown luke-warm and self-satisfied.

It is easy to view these as problems affecting only those five of the seven.

The problem was greater than something limited to these. There were many Christian centers in the Province of Asia. “But seven, as always, means totality. But why choose these seven towns? They were situated on a circular road which linked up the most important parts of the province. John would naturally send his letter first to Ephesus; his courier would then convey the letter to the other churches in the province until all the churches had heard the message.”[3] The message then, with its admonitions and promises, becomes a universal message applicable to every church, and every member professing to be Christian, for all ages.

Father Abbot, in addressing those inquiring at the door of his monastery, uses this example from the First Century Church and says to his Sixth Century inquirers … Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.[4] He says the same thing to us in the here and now of the Twenty-First Century.

Saint Benedict, in The Rule, encourages me to study history and to keep looking back at the past. He encourages me to keep looking around at what is happening in the world and in the Church today. He continues to encourage me to keep looking within myself to see where the affections of my heart are. His words encourage me to keep weighing the consequences of my decisions and actions. They also encourage me to keep looking ahead toward where my steps are taking me as I seek to attain to the fellowship of everlasting blessedness.

The Prologue continues,

And inquiring for His own labourer among the multitude of the people to whom He proclaims these things, the Lord says again: “Who is the man that wishes for life, and desires to see good days?” And if hearing this thou dost answer “I,” God then says to thee: “If thou dost wish for life true and eternal, refrain thy tongue from evil and let not thy lips speak guile. Turn aside from evil and do good; seek out peace and follow it.[5] And when ye have done this, lo, My eyes are upon you and My ears open to your prayers. And before ye call, I will say, ‘Behold, I am here.’ ”[6] What, most dear brethren, could be more sweet to us than this voice of the Lord inviting us?[7] 

The question asked by the Sainted Abbot is direct, personal, and to the point. He, like he so often does in the Rule, uses the Sacred Scriptures to appeal to the reasoning capabilities of those he addresses. Benedict is pointing out that God, through the Holy Spirit, is searching the hearts of the vast multitude of people that profess to know him and looking for those that are willing to surrender wholeheartedly to him.

And inquiring for His own labourer among the multitude of the people to whom He proclaims these things, the Lord says again: “Who is the man that wishes for life, and desires to see good days?”

I take the liberty to rephrase the question asked in the verse. Who is the person that seeks to discover God in deeper and fuller measures and experience the life of God in ways that cannot be measured by earthly increments of measurement?

It was, and still is, in answering this question for myself that I was, and remain, attracted to Saint Benedict as one of his students living in the world outside the monastery.

And if hearing this thou dost answer “I,” God then says to thee: “If thou dost wish for life true and eternal, refrain thy tongue from evil and let not thy lips speak guile. Turn aside from evil and do good; seek out peace and follow it.”

I realized, the first time I read the Prologue, that personal change would be an inevitable part of the Benedictine journey. It wasn’t that I was living as a modern heathen or one in need of initial conversion to the Christian faith. But I was, after all, accustomed to living without a specific rule or set of guidelines that did not change with each passing contemporary fad blowing in the wind or with whatever mood I woke up in. I was weary of changes that never lasted and spiritual programs that were constantly changing – changes that left me feeling unanchored and drifting. I was weary of essentially writing my own rule as a way of interpreting the Christian life according to my own understanding.

The change, the directed continual conversion that is both a beginning and a lifelong journey spoken of in the Rule, was like a beam from a lighthouse.

And when ye have done this, lo, My eyes are upon you and My ears open to your prayers. And before ye call, I will say, ‘Behold, I am here.’ ”

Abbot Benedict assures me that this way of life, described and defined in the Rule, is full of promise and assurance. He spoke from personal experience. History, centuries of Benedictine history, validated the words that came from his lips and quill. He quotes the words of God as quilled by the Prophet Isaiah seven hundred years before Christ’s birth. He promises those inquiring of him that this God whom we seek to discover and live in more deeply and intimately sees us, hears us, and will indeed reveal himself to us as we yield to him in humble submission.

What, most dear brethren, could be more sweet to us than this voice of the Lord inviting us?

There is nothing foul or sour about the love of God, or this path marked out by Saint Benedict and his monastic predecessors.

I admit that there are times when this sweetness, both the sweetness of God and the sweetness of the Rule, have a bitter taste. I constantly remind myself (and often tell others) that I yet have feet of clay and a long way to go before the Potter is finished molding the clay that is me. Living “as Christ”, modeling and reflecting the image of the Lamb, is not always what I immediately want to do when confronted by situations, ideologies, and people that provoke me. I, too often, want to imitate the Lion when he returns to meet out judgment. The Christ centered precepts and wisdom in the Rule, when I keep them before me, keeps my clay in check.

I also remind myself that I am here by personal invitation – that through the grace of God I was led to where I am. I remind myself that while I was seeking God, God was also seeking and guiding me toward the door where I would be invited in and received into something that would both diminish and enlarge me.[8] [9]

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[1] See Proverbs 14:34

[2] Revelation Chapters 2 and 3

[3] A Catholic Commentary On Holy Scriptures, Thomas Nelson and Sons, © 1953, p. 1196

[4] Revelation 2:7

[5] See Psalm 34:11-15

[6] See Isaiah 58:9 and 65:24

[7] RB Prologue 14-19

[8] Matthew 7:7

[9] Revelation 3:20

In Memory Of Joe Kralik

This afternoon, nine years ago today, I visited with my dad in the nursing home where he was being taken care of.

When I got to the wing, I pressed the button by the locked doors. Staff at the nurses station responded by pushing a button that unlocked the doors so I could enter. I checked with them and they told me that my dad was sitting in the day-room.

He was alone in the room.

Snoozing.

I simply sat there quietly for a while. I don’t know how long I sat. It was for a while. He was breathing quite well, but there was a sound in his breathing, in his chest, that sounded wet.

After a while I got up, stood beside him, touched him softly on his left shoulder, and spoke to him. “Daddy, it’s me, David. I’m here to see you and visit with you. Are you going to wake up and talk with me?”

He stirred a little, opened his eyes a little, and looked at me as though I was a total stranger.

“Daddy, it’s me, David.”

His eyes opened wide …. I am quite certain that he recognized me … and began to speak excitedly to me while pointing repeatedly toward the ceiling. I could not understand a word that he was saying. He was speaking in Czech, the first and primary language taught to him by his immigrant Czech parents, a language that he thought was of no value to teach to his 2^nd Generation American children.

“Daddy, you’re talking in Bohunky. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying. Talk in English.”

He kept on. Talking excitedly in his first language. Repeatedly pointing upward. Deep rattle in his chest as he talked and breathed. He never said a word in English. He spoke only in Czech.

I stayed with him for a good while before having to make my way home.

My phone rang around supper time, one of my sisters on the other end. “They’ve call from the nursing home and are calling the family in.” My response was, “I’m not surprised. We’ll be there in a little bit.”

My dad drew his last rattling breath a few hours later.

There are a lot of memories that I could share about my dad. One particular memory stands out among them all.

I remember when I sat with him and told him that Shirli and I had gone through the classes and become Catholics. I had no idea of how he would respond. His response? He simply looked at me, like only Joe Kralik could look at you, and said, “I am Catholic. I was baptized Catholic. The old man (speaking of his dad) was anti-Christ and wouldn’t let Ma take us to church after we were baptized.”

My phone rings a number of months after the conversation with my dad, my oldest brother (now gone to his rest as well) on the other end. “Daddy told me to tell you that he wants you to take him to the Catholic Church with you this Sunday.” My response was, “Really? You’re not pulling my leg are you?” “No. I’m not pulling your leg. That’s what daddy told me last night.”

After spending some time talking with my dad, I stopped in to see if our priest was where I could talk with him for a few minutes. He was.

I explained our situation, about the request that my dad had made the previous night, and that my dad was insistent that he needed to come to the church and take communion – something that, in all his (at the time) ninety years of life, he had never done in the Catholic Church. Father told me to bring him to Mass … that, considering the circumstances and my dad’s age, it was important that this happen.

It was a bit of a job to get him to Mass that Sunday morning. His ability to get around on two legs was pretty much gone. My brother stayed with him Saturday night, helped get him dressed and ready to go, helped me wheel him out of the house, down the steps, and loaded onto the seat of my truck. He and I in my truck. My brother and his wife in their car. Shirli in her car. We had us a little Kralik convoy into town.

We sat in a pew and my dad sat beside us in his wheelchair. When it was time to go forward to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus, I leaned over and asked my dad, “Are you sure that you want to go forward?” He looked at me and simply nodded his head with an affirmative nod. Words are unable to express the feelings of emotion that went through me as I rolled my dad to the front of the church and watched as he received the Body and Blood of Christ for the first time in his ninety years of life.

Shirli and I went for a drive today on the ninth anniversary of my dad’s death. We drove down to the cemetery where he is buried to simply honor him, hang out with him, and to pray for him. We took along a couple of camp chairs, a light picnic (Friday is, after all, a day of Fasting and Abstinence), a tall votive candle with Our Lady of Guadalupe on it, a simple Rosary to leave at his grave, and a breviary to recite the Office for the Dead.

Cemeteries are peaceful places.

They can also be painful places, places full of emotions and memories.

Cemeteries, every grave and headstone, are a visual reminder that the day is coming when each of us, too, must join those that rest beneath the soil.

Lord, hear our prayers.

By raising your Son from the dead, you have given us faith.

Strengthen our hope that Joe Kralik, both our earthly dad and brother, will share in his resurrection.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Living The Rule - Prologue 8-13

I think back to the time when I first stumbled upon Saint Benedict and the Rule.

I had grown terribly dissatisfied with the modern approaches to living the Christian life that I had known over the first four and a half decades of my life – decades which, by the way, were lived in the realm of both denominational and independent Reformational free-church approaches to Christianity.

In my personal dissatisfaction, in my search for something that made meaningful sense as a means to living the Christian life in this modern world, I had been studying monastic spirituality. What I discovered in those early monks and monastic communities was solidly historical in the context of the Church. It was also vital, developing, and enduring. It was full of spiritual life and personal devotion. Monasticism was, in those early centuries, an antithesis to the chaos of early society.

There was something about Abbot Benedict and his presentation of precepts for living that immediately grabbed me. His antithetical approach to the chaos of the Sixth Century made sense. It made sense then. It makes sense now in the chaos of these modern times.

One of the things that I have noticed about the Rule is that it is vibrant and alive.

This living vibrancy was not as evident at first. It was inherently evident but, in retrospect, in first coming to grips with the Rule as a way of life, a lot of my focus on the Rule was largely cold and institutional – a booklet of rules to memorize, quote, and promote in my own antithetical stand against the chaos of the world. The Rule is a book of rules. It is, however, more than a book of rules.

It is, if we allow it, the presence and voice of Saint Benedict – a kind and warm presence and voice full of vibrant life – speaking to us now, as a dear and loving father speaking to his children, this far this side of the Sixth Century.

The Sainted Father Abbot says,

Let us therefore now at length rise up as the Scripture incites us when it says: “Now is the hour for us to arise from sleep.” (Romans 13:11)

And with our eyes open to the divine light, let us with astonished ears listen to the admonition of God’s voice daily crying out and saying: “Today if ye will hear His voice, harden not your hearts.” (Psalm 95:8)

And again: “He who has the hearing ear, let him hear what the Spirit announces to the churches.” (Revelation 2:7)

And what does the Spirit say? “Come, children, listen to me: I will teach you the fear of the Lord. (Psalm 34:11) Run while ye have the light of life, that the shades of death envelop you not (John 12:35).”[1]

I cannot help but to sense the pleading in his voice as Abbot Benedict directs this urgent appeal to those inquiring at the door of his monastery. The pleading appeal reaches farther than to those initially seeking admission. The appeal is universal. It extends to those who have already entered in and sat down at his feet. It extends to every disciple of Christ’s within and without the monastic enclosure.

Abbot Benedict, in his pleading, is showing me that I need to wake up.

I like to think that I am awake. I have awakened to the truth, but the honest truth of the matter is that I am never fully awake to the truth. There are times when my eyes are more open. There are times when I allow the things going on in the world around me to cloud my vision. There are times when I get into my own way and cannot see the divine light. I am, I will ever be, in need of a clearer vision of the divine light that Christ desires to shine upon and through me.

He is showing me that the choice is mine to make. How clearly and brightly this light shines into and through me will always be conditioned by my willingness to open my heart to receive this divine light.

Abbot Benedict urges me to remember that nothing passes by the watchful eyes of God and to consider the consequences of my actions. There are some valuable lessons to learn from the Seven Churches.[2] What was spoken to them as individual churches is applicable to everyone that professes to be a disciple of Christ’s.

Then, through a line from a Psalm, Abbot Benedict offers himself to me as mentor, teacher, and guide and encourages me to accept his offering while I have light to see by.

Holy Saint Benedict, pray for us that accept your kind offer, especially us Oblates.

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[1] RB Prologue 8-13

[2] Revelation 2 and 3

Living The Rule - Prologue 4-7

I dare not speak for any other person.

I can speak about other people. I try, sometimes I fail but I try, to avoid saying anything about other people that maligns their character or diminishes them in any way. Even the worst examples of human beings still possess within their beings elements of goodness as creatures created by God. All of us, regardless of who we are or where we are at in our sojourn on earth, yet have room for improvement in developing the goodness of God that abides within us.

I can only speak for myself. I can only speak about where I have come from, where I am at, where I hope to one day be, and the battles within my own interior self that occur as I seek and pursue more of God and his goodness – a goodness that will always be incomplete until my own mortality takes on immortality.[1]

The Rule helps me keep life in balance. It helps me see others as I should. It helps me see myself as I should. The Rule, by continually revealing my own weaknesses, helps me to understand and empathize with the weaknesses of others.

Personal confession.

There have been times during my Oblate journey that I have been a poor example. I have, at times, been a miserable failure. How many times have I had to start over and reclaim holy terrain that I allowed to slip from my grip? More than I care to think about but, in honesty, must think about lest pride take root and grow up to usurp humility.

I find a great amount of encouragement in a letter written by Elder Joseph the Heychest regarding falling down and getting up. It encourages me to know that I am not the only one with scars from skinned knees.

 http://www.orthodoxchurchquotes.com/2013/07/20/elder-joseph-the-heychest-letter-about-falling-down-and-getting-up/ 

Abbot Benedict has this to say about the vocation of those that enter into his school.

In the first place, then, when thou dost begin any good thing that is to be done, with most insistent prayer beg that it may be carried through by Him to its conclusion; so that He Who already deigns to count us among the number of His children may not at any time be made aggrieved by evil acts on our part.

For in such wise is obedience due to Him, on every occasion, by reason of the good He works in us; so that not only may He never, as an irate father, disinherit us His children, but also may never, as a dread-inspiring master made angry by our misdeeds, deliver us over to perpetual punishment as most wicked slaves who would not follow Him to glory[2].

It helps to realize that this vocation is not something that I can fulfill in my own strength. Earnest Ora … insistent prayer … begins, sustains, and brings to conclusion the life of those that enter into Benedict’s school. Only through prayer, and the infusion of God’s grace through prayer, can I possibly honorably fulfill this holy calling.

I remind myself that this vocation as an Oblate of Saint Benedict is a holy calling. It is, as a holy calling, bound to be met by oppositional forces – both from within the realm of my own interior complex and from the realm without that will always work to influence my interior complex. This, I think, is one of the areas where our cloistered brothers and sisters are given an advantage over Oblates living in the world. Monastery walls create an environment that significantly limits outside influences.

I remind myself, too, that obedience is expected of me as a life-long commitment and that disobedience will always produce consequences that will deprive me of God’s blessings in the here and now this side of eternity. Disobedience, if left unrepented of, will eventually lead to eternal separation from God and the eternal blessings of those that faithfully persevere in their calling.

These points of reminder affect all of us as disciples of Christ, regardless of our denominational affiliation, Oblate or otherwise. We are, after all, called to lives of holiness that separate us from the world and its way of living.

Oblates of Saint Benedict enter into a Solemn Promise that obligates us, out of love for Christ and love for our brothers and sisters in Christ both inside and outside the monastery, to live in a way that reflects the Light of Christ, the precepts of our Founding Abbot as found in the Rule of Saint Benedict, the heritage of faithful Benedictines throughout the centuries, and the examples now presented by our professed monastic brothers and sisters living lives of ora et labora (prayer and work) within monasteries around the world today.

We can, with God’s help, do this.

The words of the Apostle Paul come to mind.

“May the God of peace sanctify you wholly; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.”[3]

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[1] 1 Corinthians 15:53

[2] RB Prologue 4-7

[3] 1 Thessalonians 5:23-24

Living The Rule - Prologue 1-3

Life, and the way we live life, simply comes down to a matter of perspective. Our perspective, at any given point and state of life, is influenced and conditioned by a diversity of external forces – culture and social norms being two of the significant ones.

A lot has changed since the Sixth Century. Human nature, however, has not changed. There is, where human nature is concerned, nothing new under the sun.

“What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done; there is nothing new under the sun.”[1]

Great tragedies arise from human mistakes. History, both natural and Church, is littered with artifacts of human tragedies. Without trustworthy guides, and heartfelt devotion to these guides, human beings are forever consigned to making the same mistakes that humans have always made.

Benedict recognized this. It was, in fact, the changes in cultural and social norms in the Sixth Century that motivated him to separate himself from the norms of society, seek refuge in a cave as a religious hermit, and then move on to establish what grew into many monasteries led by the guidance of the Rule.

I have come to understand the Rule as both a catechism and as a prescription for spiritual well-being.

Here, in this rapidly changing Twenty-First Century, I need (we all need) the Rule as a trustworthy guide to assist me in living in a fashion that honors Christ’s Sacrifice and to keep me from running willy-nilly after every passing fad that is blown along by the winds of time.

Abbot Benedict begins the Prologue to his Rule saying,

Hearken continually within thine heart, O son, giving attentive ear to the precepts of thy master.

Understand with willing mind and effectually fulfil thy holy father’s admonition; that thou mayest return, by the labour of obedience, to Him from Whom, by the idleness of disobedience, thou hadst withdrawn. To this end I now address a word of exhortation to thee, whosoever thou art, who, renouncing thine own will and taking up the bright and all-conquering weapons of obedience, dost enter upon the service of thy true king, Christ the Lord.[2]

These words immediately cause me to become introspective. They immediately begin to generate questions that I must inquire of myself if I am indeed being honest with myself.

Hearken continually within thine heart, O son, giving attentive ear to the precepts of thy master.

Am I indeed listening and paying attention continually to the inherent hunger in my heart – a hunger that can never be satisfied apart from intimately knowing God who placed it within me to cause me to seek after him?

Am I satisfied with my own conditioned perception of things related to living life as a spiritual human being?

Am I willing to recognize my need for a master to tutor me along the pathway of spiritual development?

Understand with willing mind and effectually fulfil thy holy father’s admonition; that thou mayest return, by the labour of obedience, to Him from Whom, by the idleness of disobedience, thou hadst withdrawn.

Benedict never forcefully coerces anyone to enter into his school. He, rather, appeals to our sense of reasoning. He wants disciples that understand and respond willingly to his invitation to sit as one of his students. None of us can possibly hope to effectually realize and bring to fruit in our lives the admonition of our teacher without first reasoning and understanding. Our willingness to follow him becomes the logical fruit of our reasoning and understanding.

Abbot Benedict insists that discernment is an important initial aspect involved in the lives of those considering following him. The Professions of monks and religious sisters is a serious life-long Vow. The Promises of Oblates are serious life-long Commitments. Our vocations are to be entered into only after serious discernment and self-examination.

There is a primary objective where monastic vocations are concerned – whether as a monk or religious sister in the monastery or as an Oblate living in the world. This primary objective is to simply, though this simply is a real battle, return to God … a return that is an ongoing everyday process that is never satisfied, one that never sees any particular point of advancement, maturity, epiphany, or experience of spiritual ecstasy as the final point of arrival. We will always be laboring in obedience to overcome the idleness or sloth of disobedience. We realize, in our vocation, that our perspective, at any moment along the way, will always have room for improvement.

To this end I now address a word of exhortation to thee, whosoever thou art, who, renouncing thine own will and taking up the bright and all-conquering weapons of obedience, dost enter upon the service of thy true king, Christ the Lord.

Benedict’s Rule is not for everyone. He is addressing it to a specific group, referred to as whosoever thou art.

The obedience referred to by Abbot Benedict means renouncing the self-will that will always promote self, self-interest, and the entertainment of all manner of self-affection. In this modern world, a world where self is promoted and worshipped, renouncing self-will and exchanging it for a will that is directed toward God is a huge pill to swallow.

Living a life of obedience toward Christ, the Sacred Scriptures, the Rule, the Abbot, and the community is something that people accustomed to living oppositely cannot assimilate into their perspective. It is also something that, pardon my honesty, a lot of Christians, regardless of their Christian formational backgrounds, have difficulty with.

I too, as a matter of confession and self-disclosure, still struggle with being an obedient student of Saint Benedict.

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[1] Ecclesiastes 1:9

[2] RB Prologue 1-3

Introduction To Living The Rule - Integrating Benedictine Spirituality

Living the Rule

Integrating Benedictine Spirituality in the Twenty-First Century

The ancient text, composed by Saint Benedict in the Sixth Century, and based largely upon the Rule of Saint Basil from the Fourth Century, is of immense value to us in this Twenty-First Century. It has, like the Sacred Scriptures, retained its value over the centuries because of the truth it contains and of how it holds the capacity to lead inquiring and willing hearts deeper into the mind and will of God – both as individuals and as communities.

The Rule has, over these many centuries, directed men and women in becoming monks and religious sisters. It has also been the Rule of life for untold numbers of men and women, married and single, that have felt a call to monastic spirituality and offered themselves to the Order of Saint Benedict as Oblates of Saint Benedict.

The precepts contained in the Rule, whether applied to life as a monk, religious sister, Oblate, or any lay person, are ever new and never become outdated.

A lot of centuries have passed since Benedict lived in a cave in Subiaco as a praying hermit and before he founded his first monastery at Cassino in the Sixth Century. Monasticism flourished, did so for centuries, and had a tremendous impact on populations, cultures, and the Church. Some congregations became quite large and wealthy. Some remained small and poor. Yet, despite their size and economy, all monasteries have been a significant influence in the communities where they were planted.

I am a late-comer to Benedictine monastic spirituality during this time in history where it would appear, at least to the natural eye, that the heyday for monasticism is past. I am, likely because of my own experience as an Oblate, a bit prejudiced in the matter. I do believe that monasteries and monastic spirituality still offer to the world a quality and depth of spiritual life that is, pardon me for my honestly, often overlooked or neglected in the Church at large.

There simply does not exist, in my experience anyway, a consistent and ongoing emphasis placed upon young people where considering monastic vocations is concerned. How can people possibly know if they have a vocation to monastic life if they are not presented with monastic life as an option? How can monasteries possibly flourish without new professions coming in to take up the seats of our brothers and sisters that grow feeble and die in their habits?

One of the amazing things about the Rule is that Benedict’s school appeals to all serious followers of Christ without respect to denomination or non-denomination. Benedict invites all of us to accept and learn through the precepts presented in the Rule. My own walk of faith now happens to be in the Church with its headquarters in Rome. Though I attempt to write with ecumenism in mind, I am sure there are times when my Catholicism, and my love for the Catholic Church is evident. I do not see this evidence as a bad thing. It is good for all of us to get beyond the barriers of denominationalism and develop a better understanding of the journey of faith that other believers in Christ are walking.

This page begins an undertaking that will likely take months, possibly a year or more, to complete. It is not something that can be hurried. Even upon its completion, it will not be completed. Complete would suggest an arrival at a destination. There is no real or tangible point that characterizes completion. Benedict’s school is about much more than mastering the rubrics. Conversatio Morum is a life-long journey in the way of Saint Benedict.

This work will be a personal step by step, verse by verse, chapter by chapter personal journey through the Rule of Saint Benedict. I started to do this in the early years of my Oblation. It did not take long for me to realize that so soon out of my novitiate was not the time for such an undertaking. Zeal is a good thing. Zeal, and still wet behind the ears, is not so good.

This is not intended to be a scholarly examination of the Rule. A scholar I am not. Nor is it intended to be a definitive statement defining the right or wrong way to interpret the Rule. It is being written not by a professed member of the monastery. It is being written by an Oblate living in the world, an Oblate that is making every possible effort to integrate the precepts taught in Benedict’s school into life in the Twenty-First Century outside the blessed walls of the monastic enclosure.

The process, from beginning to conclusion, is something that I need to do, first of all, for myself this far this side of my Oblation. Beyond this, this being my own interior reckoning with the Rule, it is also something that may (hopefully) assist others in discovering this beautiful little school that Benedict founded those many centuries ago. Perhaps it will assist others in walking out their Oblations. 

For whatever good this accomplishes, in my own life or in the lives of others, I say in advance Deo Gratias – Thanks be to God.

A word about the translation of the Rule being used.

Here, at the outset, I am using The Rule of Saint Benedict, Translated into English. A Pax Book, London: S.P.C.K., 1931. This translation is in the public domain. I normally use the RB 1980. It has copyright restrictions. I am corresponding with the copyright owner, Liturgical Press, in reference to using the text of the RB 1980. I may, if permission is granted, switch texts and replace the older public domain text with the more modern translation.

As I begin this work, I do so with three Benedictine monks in mind – Father Thomas O’Connor, OSB, Father Edward Markley, OSB, and Father Howard Moussier, OSB. Each of these Benedictine monks touched my life deeply and left their lasting impression upon me. They each fought the good fight. They each completed the race they were called to run. It is not hard at all to imagine their voices, along with the voice of Abbot Benedict, speaking the words of the Rule to me as I read them.

I approach this endeavor as Ora et Labora – Prayer and Work as something to be done at a deep, intimate, and confessional level; as an older version of that seeker knocking at the door of Saint Bernard Abbey where Father O’Connor met me at the door, welcomed me into the Benedictine community as an Oblate Novice, then confirmed me as an Oblate of Saint Benedict through the signing of my Oblate Promise at the side altar of the Abbey Church.

I hear them saying to me,

Hearken continually within thine heart, O son, giving attentive ear to the precepts of thy master.

Understand with willing mind and effectually fulfil thy holy father’s admonition; that thou mayest return, by the labour of obedience, to Him from Whom, by the idleness of disobedience, thou hadst withdrawn.

 To this end I now address a word of exhortation to thee, whosoever thou art, who, renouncing thine own will and taking up the bright and all-conquering weapons of obedience, dost enter upon the service of thy true king, Christ the Lord.

[Photo - March 2007] Father Thomas O'Connor and I at Saint Bernard Abbey a few months after my Final Oblation.