Living a Lie

Image via Wikipedia

 The sorrows and the hopes of our time undoubtedly stem from material causes, economic and technical factors which play an essential role in the course of human history, but even more profoundly they stem from the ideas, the drama in which the spirit is involved, the invisible forces which arise and develop in our minds and hearts. History is not a mechanical unfolding of events into the midst of which man is simply placed like a stranger. Human history is human in its very essence; it is the history of our own being, of that miserable flesh, subject to all the servitudes imposed by nature and by its own weakness, which is, however, inhabited and enlightened by the spirit and endowed with the dangerous privilege of freedom.

Jacques Maritain, The Range of Reason


I suppose it’s a sign of age that nowadays my most interesting experiences often come from visits to the doctor’s office or a clinic of some sort. I made one of those visits for a blood test last week and, while waiting for the local vampires to draw blood, noticed a new sign on the wall. It was a primer for parents bringing young children in for blood tests on how to deal with their fear. Most of it was innocuous enough, don’t tell the kid it won’t hurt, try holding their hand during the test, if he (she, or it, or whatever the current PC term for the third person singular pronoun is these days) is a teenager, perhaps leaving the room while the test is being performed in order to make them feel a little more adult. The usual, more common sense suggestions were all listed.

Yet, I wondered how many parents these days have no idea of the proper way to deal with their children who face even minor difficulties. Are parents now complete morons who need to be guided by professionals in every aspect of life? I wondered if there are too many such professionals floating around who could find better things to do. 

However, it was the final paragraph of this professional notice that really caught my eye. It listed 3 “don’ts,” the last of which was the most interesting – “No matter how they acted, tell (him, her, it) that you’re proud of (him, her, it).”

I have to agree with Maritain that we are certainly subject to all the servitudes and weaknesses of our miserable flesh, and often display these weaknesses in public for all to see. That sign was a case in point. The thing seems to be these days that we are unwilling and unable to face the truth about ourselves and those close to us. When I was growing up, if I were taken to the Doctor and acted like the little brat I often was, in front of strangers no less, my father would have made sure I understood his displeasure. Acting like spoiled brat was not to be tolerated. It shouldn’t be tolerated today.

The sign in the clinic encourages parents to teach their children that their immediate, selfish desires, the avoidance of discomfort or inconvenience of any kind, are more important than courageously and honestly facing even minor difficulties. If it is a greater good to undergo a little pain or discomfort to ensure better health, isn’t it better to teach the child that facing such things with determination, if not courage, is better than to seek the easy way out at this moment? Isn’t that what a truly human life is about? I have to wonder how children raised this way will deal with real pain and tragedy. They will not have the inner resources available to face such things. We risk having them learn that life is nothing more than the avoidance of trouble, and therefore meaningless and unbearable.


Benedict wanted his monks to live in humility, which is simply facing and accepting the truth about ourselves and our situation. Father Michael Casey writes, 

Bernard of Clairvaux clearly affirms that humility is grounded on truth: within oneself, in one’s relations with others, and with regard to God. This is, perhaps, a more positive way of approaching humility, and one which enables us to appreciate its importance. In such a perspective, “humility” connotes a fundamental concordance with the reality of one’s nature.

One reality of our nature is pain. The glory of our nature is enlightenment by the spirit, enabling us to deal with that pain nobly and truly, thereby attaining a fully human, meaningful life. I can’t understand why we would want to avoid that.

The Week, March 20, 2010

When I was a Presbyterian living in Texas, I attended a church whose pastor was a very learned, scholarly, and sadly, alcoholic preacher from Glasgow. He had been at that church over 20 years and had preached on every conceivable text from Scripture. A couple of times, toward the end of his tenure there, he would get up and confess, in his still deep Scot’s brogue, that he was tempted to simply read the days text and admit that he had nothing new to add to what he had already preached on many times. He saw no reason to waste everyone’s time. There are times when, facing a blank page, I feel the same way. Could there ever be anything new to say that I likely haven’t already said many times over? However, in the name of obedience and stability, since I have undertaken to maintain this blog, I offer a few comments on the past week.

The Weather

The week began with the first hint of spring so far this year. By mid-week we were having temperatures that I think reached the low 70’s – life was good. Then, reality reasserted itself. Thursday we saw increasing clouds, Friday cold and snow with a 30 degree drop in temperature. It snowed more or less all day. This morning dawned clear, a deep Colorado blue sky, and cold; it was 14 when I awoke.

It often seems no one is happy with the weather in Colorado Springs, with people almost evenly divided between those wishing for constant blizzard conditions from mid-November through April, and those who wish for snow only in the two week period beginning December 15th and ending on New Year’s Eve. I wonder many times why people move to Colorado Springs, it’s as if they had no idea that this area is really high-desert, tending to be a bit dry, but certainly subject to receiving our share of snow, depending upon either El Nino or El Nina conditions in the Pacific. If you don’t like snow and colder weather, ever, this isn’t the place for you.

The Week

I have come close to the end of a very busy time at work. I thought back on Thursday evening and realized I had been “busy” since the middle of December; it seems it was a time of almost constant pressure to meet deadlines and get things done. This period has come close to ending rather abruptly and it’s a bit of a let-down. I have to regroup and reorient myself to establish a routine not driven by pressure but by trying to recognize the important, creative things I now have some freedom to accomplish. This kind of thing, if you are an accountant, is an annual occurrence, but oddly, after a career of almost, well, let’s just say many years, I am just now recognizing. It’s something I seem more attuned to.

Is there any conclusion from any of this? I keep thinking of Chapter 31 of the Rule, “Qualifications of the Monastery Cellarer.” Benedict begins that chapter with the following:

“As cellarer of the monastery, there should be chosen from the community someone who is wise, mature in conduct, temperate, not an excessive eater, not proud, not excitable, offensive, dilatory or wasteful, but God-fearing, like a father to the whole community.”

 As the accountant, the “business manager” or “cellarer” of the company I work for, I believe I should strive to live those qualities that Benedict sets out in the Rule. Being mature, temperate, not offensive, means accepting the circumstances in which I find myself on a day to day basis. Not only accepting, but seeing the gift in the moment, whether it’s in a Rocky Mountain spring snow storm and the beauty of its passing, or a transition from a time of much activity to one of a slower pace, each moment is a gift that is too often taken for granted. Benedict would want that from each of his monks.

I think he would appreciate the point of a story my father, also a Scot born near Glasgow, used to tell as he got older. He went to the doctor, yet another Scot, complaining of a cough. The doctor examined him, asked him his age, and said, “Ach, Willie, gae home and be glad you’re able to cough.”

Obedience in September

I haven’t posted much this month, it has just seemed a hectic time and I have been trying just to maintain some level of sanity. I haven’t needed additional activities.

The result is that I haven’t written much about obedience as I had planned. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought much about it, I have. The thought has even crossed my mind that not posting here regularly is a violation of both stability and obedience, but we won’t go there.

The idea I keep returning to, when I think of obedience, is attentiveness. Being obedient involves listening, paying attention, to the necessities of the moment. It means being aware of what is going on life and doing what needs to be done in that moment. This can be at times easy or very difficult, even involving sacrificial acts of love. But, at heart, every proper response to the moment is an act of love. As such, it leads us closer to God. Failing to make the proper response to the moment is a act of disobedience and leads us away from God.

The difficult part is that, every day, I seem to be presented with new and challenging opportunities to practice obedience. It seems worse because now I’m aware of the need to practice being obedient and I am not one for whom that comes naturally. I tend to procrastinate, or, worse, to fall back on thinking I know better than another the right thing to do to solve a problem. I simply don’t like having to follow the lead of others. But, I’ve been trying to change that this month.

So, if nothing else, perhaps my focus on the idea of obedience this month has provided some benefits, at least to those co-workers and family members who have had to deal with me. And, maybe, just maybe, I’ll be more obedient to my commitment to post here a little more regularly. I don’t know if that helps you who might read this or not.

Obedience

For no reason other than to impose a little order in my study of Benedictine spirituality, I decided over the next two or three months to focus on one topic important in monastic spirituality each month. This month, the topic is obedience.

I chose this first because, for me, it’s one of the more difficult things to deal with in Benedict’s Rule. None of us likes to lose control of our lives to another. We are told here in America that we’re free and should be able to do whatever we want “as long as no one else gets hurt.” A silly idea, but quite predominant. We like this least of all in spiritual matters, we insist strongly on freedom of conscience.

Too, I’ve read what a number of prominent Benedictine authors have written on the topic and many seem to down play the authoritarian side of this monastic vow. When I started to make notes to myself about this I wanted to too. I wanted to rationalize and say, “Well, it doesn’t mean you have to obey someone or you're under their thumb, it really means (name your option here).

Yet, it’s pretty easy to see that we all live under some form of obedience. Those of us who must earn our living day by day and care for a family have bosses, customers, subordinates, husbands, wives, children who demand our time and attention. It’s not a foreign concept to any walk of life. Then too, in the typical small, enclosed monastic community, not having the authority figure of the abbot and allowing each monk to do his own thing when and where and how he pleases would soon result in the end of the community. It would be nothing but chaos, confusion and eventual dissolution.

I have to conclude that there is an aspect of submission to authority which the monastic vow of obedience encompasses. It’s an ordinary part of every human life and Benedict is the master at seeing the ordinary as the path to the extraordinary.

Benedict also does nothing to hide the difficulties involved.

LISTEN carefully, my child,
to your master's precepts,
and incline the ear of your heart (Prov. 4:20).
Receive willingly and carry out effectively
your loving father's advice,
that by the labor of obedience
you may return to Him
from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience.

Sometimes, being obedient is a labor, it’s something that must be worked at day in and day out. Benedict sees disobedience as sloth, not for the indolent. Because of the distasteful connotations, however, obedience has gotten a bad name; it’s very little understood, and less sought after or, even, expected. A better understanding of this fundamental Benedictine ideal is much needed, especially by me. Thus, the rest of this month is devoted to it.

From a Letter to the monk Adam

by St. Bernard of Clairvaux

To make this principle clear, we must note that some actions are wholly good; others wholly evil: and in these no obedience is to be rendered to men. For the former are not to be omitted by us, even if they are prohibited [by men]: nor the latter done, even though they are commanded. But, besides these, there are actions between the two, and which may be good or evil according to circumstances of place, time, manner, or person, and in these obedience has its place, as it was in the matter of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which was in the midst of Paradise. When. these are in question, it is not right to prefer our own judgment to that of our superiors, so as to take no heed of what they order or forbid.