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]
[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
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