Bummed out Dude!

I wrote a post with this title earlier today and then I read this from Fr. Stephanos at Prince of Peace Abbey.

Christ ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand
of the Father.He wants us to be with him in glory.That wish fills his prayer in
[the Gospel of John] . . .

This puts what I was trying to say in clearer perspective.

I have struggled over the last two weeks, since the trip to Florida, trying to get my prayer and reading schedule back on track. It’s been shot to pieces, only beginning with some partial recovery on this past Sunday. My reaction has been a typical one for me, frustration and the strong temptation to chuck it all and give up entirely.

I realized on Sunday that that’s wrong. In light of what Fr. Stephanos wrote in his homily, I understand now that what I should be doing is persevering. I should accept that what I am trying for is not some measure of “success” at prayer and lectio, it is faithfulness. There is a goal I deeply want to reach, and I can’t achieve it by giving up on the things most necessary to reach it. I must do what is necessary. I have to keep in mind, “every moment” as St. Benedict says, that I have a destiny that is more than anything I can imagine. It’s really a relationship, and relationships aren’t built by estrangement. Rather, it’s trust and communication and sharing that is at the heart of the matter. My Lord knocks at the door every moment of every day; it’s my job to open it.

A False Peace

“Not to give a false sign of peace.” (Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 4)

I grew up a Presbyterian and one characteristic of Presbyterian preaching that I always enjoyed was the penchant for ministers to come up with pithy, easily remembered, sayings that conveyed a basic truth. If you are familiar with Scott Hahn you will have heard plenty of examples of this. One thing I remember him saying is, “Yes, God does love you just the way you are. But he loves you too much to leave you that way.”

Shortly before I came into the Church, I was listening to a sermon and the minister threw out this comment: “If you are having a hard time getting along with someone, pray for that person. You’ll be surprised how much you will change.”

I think that’s the point Benedict is trying to get across in Chapter 4 of the Rule. You might think the obvious meaning here is more like, if you’re not getting along with someone, don’t let them think you’re taking it. Let’em have it! But no, Benedict didn’t get to be a saint thinking like that.

As I reflect on this sentence, I think Benedict is telling us to look to ourselves when faced with difficult relationships. He wants us to ask ourselves what we are doing to improve the situation. Or better still, what have we done to make the situation worse? He doesn’t want us to be holding a grudge against anyone after the sun goes down. We should deal with these things right away.

Another lesson that might come from this little bit of the Rule is that we shouldn’t pretend to get along with someone when we don’t. We don’t want to just try to get along enough so that we don’t have to face the problem. He wants us to face the issue and do our best to resolve it.

It all comes back to what I heard in that sermon. We need to pray for the people in our lives who we find difficult to get along with, and hope that, somehow, God will change us.

Stability

Sit in your cell as in paradise;

put the whole world behind you and forget it;

like a skilled angler on the lookout for a catch

keep a careful eye on your thoughts. From St. Romuald’s Rule

I just returned from a business trip to Orlando (yes, it really was a business trip). It was the first time I have been out of town for perhaps 3 years and I learned a lesson in stability.

A little background. For a Benedictine monk, stability means more than simply living out one’s life in the monastery of which he is a member. It means a kind of perseverance, an inner commitment to live the life of a monk no matter the circumstances. It means, once committed to a task, that you see the task through to completion. It means not giving up on a particular circumstance just because it is unpleasant or difficult, not running away. In short, it means “sticking with it”, not with grim determination, but with joy.

With this in mind, I have to say that my recent trip was a total, absolute, unadulterated failure. Due to the disruption in routine, prayer was impossible, spiritual reading, not to mention lectio non-existent. I found myself experiencing little outbursts of impatience and temper due to the miserable treatment one receives from the airlines today as a matter of routine. I simply fell to pieces.

One bright spot, albeit too brief, was a side trip to St. Leo’s Abbey which is just northeast of Tampa. From reading John Cassian’s Oblate Blog, and a brief discussion with a lady at the Abbey that I believe to be an Oblate there, I learned they are in the process of redecorating the Church. They have done a very nice job – it looks great. The pictures, below, don’t really do it justice. But, the remarkable thing, something immediately noticeable at any Abbey, was the silence. It was the deep silence that can only come from a placed steeped in prayer. This was true even though the monastery sits not far off a well-travelled highway and next door to a university, St. Leo’s. It was a real relief to be able to spend just a few minutes in that place, after the noise and bustle of a hectic business conference and just being around Orlando. It gave me a slight recharge of the batteries; just enough to get me home with some small semblance of sanity left.

On the trip home, I had time to set and reflect on the experience and I immediately thought of Romuald’s Little Rule. I had new insight into the value of “sitting in your cell.” There is, indeed, a real wisdom in what he is saying, because it’s almost impossible to go out into the world and find anything but disruption if you are trying to live by St. Benedict’s Rule. There is a real reason why Benedict prized stability so highly. If you don’t believe me, just jump on a plane and head for Orlando.

Have a Nice Day

Have a good day!
And the Lord, seeking his laborer
in the multitude to whom He thus cries out,
says again,
"Who is the one who will have life,
and desires to see good days" (Ps. 33[34]:13)?
And if, hearing Him, you answer,
"I am the one,"
God says to you,
"If you will have true and everlasting life,
keep your tongue from evil
and your lips that they speak no guile.
Turn away from evil and do good;
seek after peace and pursue it" (Ps. 33[34]:14-15).
And when you have done these things,
My eyes shall be upon you
and My ears open to your prayers;
and before you call upon Me, I will say to you,
'Behold, here I am'" (Ps. 33[34]:16; Is. 65:24; 58:9). (From the Prologue to the Rule).

Most of us have a good idea of what it means to have a good day. Sometimes, it means that everything seemed to go our way; we had no major difficulties, the weather was great, our boss loved us, we had a day off, we won the lottery, whatever. But, it seems from this short section of the Rule, that’s not what Benedict thinks of when he asks us if we wish to “see good days.”

Benedict says that those who wish for good days will follow just a few simple rules:

1) Keep your tongue from evil;
2) Turn from evil and do good;
3) Seek peace and pursue it.

While Benedict may seem completely out of step with what most people would consider to be a good day, in fact, I think he’s on to something. What is Benedict talking about? I think Benedict is getting to the heart of the matter. If we truly seek “good days”, what we are seeking is something deeper than the experiences of any particular day. He’s trying to tell us how to have good days when everything we touch turns to ca-ca, the weather is lousy, our boss hates us, and we are down to our last dollar in the bank. He wants us to build the interior resources we need to look at every day we are given as a “good day.” I mean, just look around. Everywhere you turn, on the news, in the street, it seems no one is keeping their tongue from evil. It seems that’s all we hear. Conversations nowadays seem to rapidly degenerate to personal name calling and vituperation if any remotely controversial topic, such as Christian faith, comes up. And who is seeking peace? Is it peaceful to have a car pull up next to you with the stereo blasting so loud you can’t hear yourself think? Is there anywhere you can go that you’re not bombarded by someone trying to get their particular message through above all the surrounding din? Are these things really part of a good day?

My own experience has shown me that, when I do indeed guard my tongue, that alone makes things go a lot better. I don’t say negative things, which improves not only my own attitude, but the attitudes of those around me. It makes things much easier. I know that being around people who are always talking others down, or being negative makes the task at hand much harder. It makes social gatherings that much more uncomfortable. It’s just bad news.

I also know that there is much going on just in the media that I need to insulate myself from. It’s hard to turn on any program on TV without being confronted squarely with evil, and constant exposure to evil, even fictionalized evil, leads one to become inured to it. You become desensitized and it becomes much harder to detect the next time you see it. If you have any doubt, just watch a 1950’s sitcom and see if you can tell a difference in the tone of what is displayed.

The heart of what Benedict is saying is, “seek peace.” That’s what all these steps add up to. By focusing on the good in our thoughts and in our speech, by carrying out those thoughts in our actions, and by seeking times of silence and prayer, retreating to our “enclosure”, we are taking positive steps to ensure that all our days are good days.

Instant Messaging, or Gossip at the Gates?

At the gate of the monastery

let there be placed a wise old man,

who knows how to receive and to give a message,

and whose maturity will prevent him from straying about. (Rule of Benedict, Ch 66)

My first thought when I read this the other morning was, what the heck does receiving and giving a message have to do with being the Porter, or guestmaster, of the monastery? The words seemed to jar me awake, they were incongruous and out of place.

Then I thought about a monastery in Benedict’s time, or for, say, 500 years thereafter. From the little I know about the history, it seems there was an almost daily stream of guests who showed up at the monastery gates looking for hospitality, at least for a safe place to spend the night. One of the functions of the Porter was to act as a buffer between these guests and the monks living an enclosed existence within the gates of the community. Benedict seems to have thought it better to have one person in contact with the world than have the entire community exposed and perhaps distracted by these visitors.

Still, in those days before cell phones and the internet, it’s certainly possible that some of those guests had business with the monastery, perhaps with the abbot, or with the cellerar. They might not expect to meet with either of those officials in person, but were probably forced to rely on the Porter to convey whatever message they might wish to be conveyed. It would be very important that the Porter be able to reliably receive the message and convey it to the intended recipient. Also, and this may be a more important issue, those messages might not be appropriate for the whole community to be informed of. It would be important to have a “wise old man” as the Porter because he would, presumably, be someone who could be relied on to keep his mouth shut. He wouldn’t be a gossip.

When I thought about all this, the passage made a bit more sense. But then, I wondered how, or if, this might apply to someone following the Rule today. It seems to me to apply in a couple of different ways. First, Benedict is obviously anxious that as many of the monks as possible maintain their “life style” as much as possible. He doesn’t want them to experience unnecessary exposure to temptations or distractions from the quiet life they have chosen. The role of the Porter is intended to assist with that. Oblates today, don’t have a Porter to help them maintain a sense of separation from the culture we live in. We have to create our own “buffer” against all the noise and distraction of modern life. We have to try to maintain a sense of what we are about as Benedictines and be self disciplined enough to make the right choices; it’s not easy, but we should try to learn discernment in the situations we find ourselves in and the people we choose to associate with. As I said, it’s not easy.

Another point is that we do well to avoid gossip and, as the old saying goes, mind our own business. We should know what concerns us and what doesn’t. I’m learning that’s a sure way to ensure greater peace in my life.

One quick disclaimer. When I mention that Oblates practice a certain “withdrawal” from our culture and that we should discern who we associate with, I don’t mean we should isolate ourselves. After all, the Porter is the agent of welcome and hospitality in the monastery. His role is to allow selective contact with the world, he’s not a guard meant to keep the world out.

So, once again, with words that seems completely out of place, there is still a valuable lesson to be learned from Benedict’s Rule. He’s worth paying attention to.

The Partners

from, Chapter 65: On the Prior of the Monastery


It happens all too often that the constituting of a Prior gives rise to grave scandals in monasteries. For there are some who become inflated with the evil spirit of pride and consider themselves second Abbots. By usurping power they foster scandals and cause dissensions in the community. Especially does this happen in those places where the Prior is constituted by the same Bishop or the same Abbots who constitute the Abbot himself. What an absurd procedure this is can easily be seen; for it gives the Prior an occasion for becoming proud from the very time of his constitution, by putting the thought into his mind that he is freed from the authority of his Abbot: "For," he will say to himself, "you were constituted by the same persons who constitute the Abbot." From this source are stirred up envy, quarrels, detraction, rivalry, dissensions and disorders. For while the Abbot and the Prior are at variance, their souls cannot but be endangered by this dissension; and those who are under them, currying favor with one side or the other, go to ruin. The guilt for this dangerous state of affairs rests on the heads of those whose action brought about such disorder.


(DISCLAIMER: The following is a fictionalized account of several meetings I actually participated years ago in while working as a CPA advising businesses on financial concerns. Any characters mentioned are truly the work of my imagination.)

I knew it would be a long meeting when the senior partner of the company I was working with turned bright red, stood up, leaned across the conference room table and punched his co-managing partner in the nose. The two were at an impasse, each refusing to budge from his position in the least, and the old gentleman had had enough. He dealt with an impossible situation in the only way that seemed to remain after attempts at persuasion had failed.

When I think back on this and similar instances I’ve witnessed, I think how they could have been avoided had any of these folks been familiar with this portion of Chapter 65 from St. Benedict’s Rule. They would have known a simple truth, in a monastery or in a business, you can’t have two bosses. Problems inevitably arise when two “equals” disagree on the proper course of action for their organization. Only confusion, disorder, and finally, failure can ensure from such a situation.

But, this isn’t the only important point to be learned from this chapter. For instance, Benedict is clear that the responsibility for a bad decision should rest with the one making the decision. I’m sure we have all worked for bosses who were more than ready to blame subordinates when some plan of theirs failed. More than likely, those are the same folks more than willing to take full credit for great successes achieved by those same subordinates. In either case, Benedict will have none of it. He sees the danger to an organization when such things occur and states firmly that those responsible for bad decisions should bear the responsibility, and the consequences, when things go wrong.

Benedict would also say that those who select lower level managers should be very careful in their choice. They should select someone who is not overly ambitious or out only for him or herself. Lower level managers should also be perfectly willing to accept pre-established limits to their new authority.

In this chapter, Benedict shows keen insight into principles of organizational behavior and management, even though he lived some 1,500 years ago. Yet, the Rule is not really intended as treatise on management. It is a guide for Christian living. Benedict sees that the poor handling of the management of the Abbey can endanger the very souls of all those involved. I think the truth of this can be seen in the incident of the two business partners I described above. The older man displayed a very high level of anger and frustration that could hardly have been good for his eternal future. It is that very type of situation that Benedict is so anxious to avoid.

Oh, you may be wondering what the argument I described above was all about. It was over whether a newly available reserved parking space should be given to the next manager in line, in accordance with long established policy, or whether it should go to the wife of the senior partner to use on her frequent trips downtown for shopping. Hardly seems like an issue to endanger your soul over, does it?

Priorities

It’s not often that I read a book, enjoy it while reading it, then, after mulling over the key ideas, almost wish I hadn’t read it. It happened this past month.

About a month ago, while perusing my book shelves for something to read, I found Frank Bianco’s Voices of Silence, Lives of the Trappists Today. I picked it up and started reading and I thought it provided some interesting insight into the lives of the four or five Trappists who form the main characters of the book. I say “form” because Bianco makes clear in his introduction that the Trappists mentioned by name are composites, made up of many of the monks he met while staying for extended periods at several monasteries both in the US and in France.

The main picture that comes across is that Trappists are:

1) Dedicated to the pursuit, almost single mindedly, of solitude and silence;

2) Resolved to sacrifice everything they have and are for the sake of following Christ;

3) Very tolerant individuals, possessed of a certain degree of wisdom, but open to most of the “progressive” ideas still floating around the Church in the late 1980’s, the time the book was written;

4) An order struggling with the “vocation crisis” that, to some extent, still concerns most religious orders today.

As I got toward the end of the book, the thing I kept thinking was, “How could I ever think about becoming an Oblate”? I had assumed that those who feel drawn to the Oblate “vocation” share certain qualities with those who lived as professed in monasteries. My idea was that Oblates would also share certain key aspects of life under the Rule with monks. I realized though, that I could never be a Trappist monk, as least not as they are described here. I would be one of the ones who washed out after the first year or so; I could not make the kind of sacrifice those men make to become Trappists. If I couldn't be a monk, how could I be an Oblate?

However, I began to think about what I was reading. In this book, there is very little explicit mention of Benedict’s Rule. There is no mention of stability, and only some reference to obedience, the focus is much more on prayer and solitude, and openness to “progressive” ideas, such as the ordination of women. It seemed the focus was a bit out of whack. Either that, or I was greatly misinterpreting what I had read.

I finally came to the conclusion that reading about something, and trying to live out that same thing in real life can be very different things. I’ve learned, and perhaps had forgotten, that it is always better to go to the source if the best information is what you desire. The source, in this case The Rule of St. Benedict, makes one thing clear: The point of being a monastic is to “. . . prefer nothing to Christ.” It seems to me that whether you are a Christian layman or a cloistered monastic, that injunction is at the heart of the matter. If you have your priorities straight, everything else will fall in line.