It is hard for me to read the Rule without realizing how
“across the grain” it cuts.
These precepts cut across the grain of a world that is
diametrically opposed to these precepts, both in the Sixth Century when
Benedict lived and in this modern Twenty-First Century where we live. They cut
across the grain of nominal Christian thought, both then and now. They cut
across my grain, both when I first opened its pages to begin following it and
now as I continue to sit under the tutelage of Saint Benedict.
I have come to believe that to take the Rule to heart, and
quietly go about living its precepts in a world so diametrically opposed to
these precepts, is one of the most radical things that a person can possibly do
to counter the effects of the world. These precepts cut at the roots of the
egotism that promotes self-inflation and leads to exploitation of and
aggression toward others. They cut at the roots of the egotism that promotes seeking
personal popularity and power over others.
Abbot Benedict tells me, and I have to continually remind
myself, that pride knows how to dress itself in garments that cloak its
deceptive nature, both within the monastic enclosure and here in the world
outside the monastery where his Oblates go about their lives.
Continually reminding myself of the deceptive nature of
pride, and standing guard against it, is especially important where presenting
myself as a representative of Saint Benedict and his Rule is concerned. It is
imperative where close personal relationships are concerned. It is imperative
where open public forums and platforms are concerned. I cannot allow myself to
become inflated with pride. Nor can I allow myself to assume and model some
sort of false humility that resembles humility but is nothing other than
another deceptive garment in the wardrobe of the enemy that he enjoys draping
over our shoulders.
The Sainted Abbot continues in the Prologue to his Rule …
Those who fear the
Lord are not puffed up by their own good observance of rule, but reckoning that
the good that is in them could not be wrought by themselves but by God, magnify
the Lord working in them and say with the prophet: “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto
us, but to Thy Name give glory.” [Psalm 114:9] Just as also the Apostle Paul
attributed nothing to himself concerning his own preaching, but said: “By the
grace of God, I am what I am.” [1 Corinthians 15:10] And again the same Paul
said: “He who glories, let him glory in the Lord.” [2 Corinthians 10:17] Whence
the Lord also says in the Gospel: “He who hears these My words and does them, I
will liken him to a wise man who built his house upon a rock. There came
torrents of rain and rushing winds, and they struck upon that house, but it
fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. [Matthew 7:24-25]”[1]
If something is worth doing, it is worth doing well. We put
our whole heart into it, do our best, and continually work on improving our
best.
Half-heartedness is a poor way to approach something as pure
and valuable as the Christian faith.
Christ does not call us to be part-time
Christians. Abbot Benedict, likewise, does not invite us to become part-time
Benedictines. Part-timing, as Christians and as Benedictines, is to build upon
sand where the torrential rains and rushing winds are sure to collapse our
house. Christ, and Saint Benedict, both knowing the value of building upon
bedrock, want their disciples to be fully invested. They assure us that being
fully invested equips us to be able to withstand the storms of life that will
rage against us. The more fully invested we are, the better able we are to
recognize, stand against, deflect, and quench the fiery darts of the Evil One[2]
who knows a thousand ways to beguile and deceive us.
A good observance of the Rule is an important aspect of
being Benedictine.
Inherent in a good observance is the realization that our
accomplishment of any good is only because of the goodness of God working in
us. Accolades for our good observance are not due to us. The accolades for our good observance are due to the one who is performing his divine will in us to bring
us to completion in preparation for the day when we will stand before him.
I am reminded of something that Merton wrote.
“A humble man is not disturbed by praise. Since he is no
longer concerned with himself, and since he knows where the good that is in him
comes from, he does not refuse praise, because it belongs to the God he loves,
and in receiving it he keeps nothing for himself. A man who is not humble
cannot accept praise gracefully. He knows what he ought to do about it. He knows
that the praise belongs to God and not to himself: but he passes it on to God
so clumsily that he trips himself up and draws attention to himself by his own
awkwardness.”[3]
Humility, a modest or low view of one’s importance, is an
integral part of Benedictine spirituality. It is, for that matter, an integral
part of what it means to be Christian. Benedict is not suggesting that we are
to look upon ourselves as less than we are. He is telling us to look upon
ourselves as we truly are in the light and presence of Christ.
Am I truly humble?
This is a difficult question to ask myself. It is also a
question that deserves an honest answer. To answer with a “yes” smacks with
both pride and false humility. The best answer that I can provide is that I
want to be truly humble. Perhaps it is because of this desire that I am
presented with so many occasions that test my humility.
[1] RB
Prologue 29-34
[2]
Ephesian 6:16
[3]
Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, © 1961, Abbey of Gethsemani, p. 188
I have also heard it said that humility is not thinking of yourself as greater than or less than anyone else in any way, but merely not really thinking of yourself at all, rather directing your attention to others and their needs... What do you think of that? Hard to do I think...
ReplyDeleteThat is a great working definition. Humility, by any definition, is a hard pill to swallow.
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