FEAST OF SAINT BENEDICT

(“But Jesus looked at them and said, ‘For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.’”  Matthew 19:26)

There was a man of venerable life, blessed by grace, and blessed in name, for he was called "Benedictus"[i] or Benedict. From his younger years, he always had the mind of an old man; for his age was inferior to his virtue. All vain pleasure he despised, and though he was in the world, and might freely have enjoyed such commodities as it yields, yet he esteemed it and its vanities as nothing.

            Thus beginneth Gregory the Great’s prologue to The Life and Miracles of Saint Benedict, otherwise known as Book II of the Dialogues of Saint Gregory.[ii]  From the sound of it, our father Benedict was a natural born saintly guy, holy from the womb.  Cheater. 

Not all of us are so gifted.  I take much consolation in knowing that a whole bunch of the folks who have made it through the canonical hoops to canonization did not exactly have the saintliest of credentials.  Among them are an exceptional amount of curmudgeons, cranks, criminals (reformed, we hope), ne’er-do-well’s and jokesters. Some were even timid and doubtful about their vocations.  And more than a few would have been judged in the eyes of the world to be abject failures at even the holiest of their endeavors.  In short, they did not all seem to have the divine imprimatur from their younger years.  (There’s hope for us yet!)

A Reader’s Digest review of this latter bunch calls me to question my bias regarding what it means to be a saintly sort.  It looks something like this:  an even-tempered demeanor, unfailingly hospitable, sage words, Über pious, and magnificent deeds of sacrifice and service.  Not just some of these qualities, mind you.  All of them.  All the time.  In one package.  Yikes.  I don’t know about you but I can only hit one or two of those qualities for about six minutes on my best day, much less every blessed day of my life.

But as mentioned previously, not all saints look alike.  So if being a “saint” is not about having The Total Package of Goodness, what is it?  Just this:  The common denominator of every woman, man and child who has ever attained the title of “Saint This or That” is the seeking of God with their whole being, no holds barred, nothing kept in reserve in case the gig didn’t work out.

If you don’t think you’re up to such a thorough-going standard, you’re right.  You aren’t up to the task.  You can’t make yourself into a saint no matter how hard you try.  Only God can make a saint.  And God would love to do just that with each and every one of us.  Really.  No kidding.  (Trust me….I’m a theologian.)  All we have to do is open the door and let Love come in.  But don’t forget to leave the windows open, too, so that Love can go out from us in return.

I’d like to go on a bit about the gospel reading from this morning’s Lauds—it’s Peter’s snippy question to Jesus (“Look, we have left everything and followed you.  What then will we have?” Matt 19:27) and Jesus’ reply about leaving kith and kin in exchange for eternal life.  I won’t, though, because

a)    The passage cries out for a full on sermon.  (I might get preachy but that doesn’t make me a preacher.)

b)    My soap box is being remodeled and is out of commission at the moment.  (I’m having it carpeted.)

c)    I need to head out the door and go be with some blessed folks in person.  (Feast days are best celebrated with good food and better company.)

So let me leave you with a few questions, instead:  What does holy look like to you?  Would you like that image to be you someday?  If not, why not?  If so, what’s holding you back...or better...what part of you are you holding back from God?  Whatever it is, let it go, loved ones, let it go.  Trust our gracious Lord to make of you what you have been made to be, namely, a great saint of God.

You are in my prayers.

Grace be with you,

+Mary

IOGD

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[i] Benedictus is Latin for “blessed.”  Even the greatest saints aren’t above a little happy word play now and then.

[ii] Help yourself to more edifying reading!  http://www.osb.org/gen/greg/tocalt.html

WANTED: PROFESSIONAL MODELS

(Must excel in virtuous living and wise teaching.  The dissolute and profligate need not apply.)

My dear sisters and brothers in Christ,

            Okay, I gotta be honest here… I’m way too exhausted to give you a decent account of the marvels this day held:  the conversation with Fr. Simeon Thole, OSB, on deans in the Rule of Saint Benedict, the wonderful prayers, the beautiful rain, the bountiful food, the fascinating tour of the Abbey Church (upper, lower and reliquary), the conviviality of endless delights, all topped off with Dilly Bars and a good ol’ fashioned Methodist hymn sing before Compline (a word which, as one of our equally weary wits remarked, sounds very close to “complain”).  So let me suffice to give you a couple of pictures and the evening’s reflection on the Rule.

            We’re having an amazingly blessed time on retreat, so keep up the prayers.  They are working!  And please remember that you are in our hearts and prayers, as well.

Grace be with you,

+Mary

Fr. Simeon and Yours Truly

Compline Reflection for Tuesday

Chapter 21.  The Deans of the Monastery

If the community is rather large, some sisters or brothers chosen for their good repute and holy life should be made deans.  They will take care of their groups of ten, managing all affairs according to the commandments of God and the orders of their abbess.  The deans selected should be the kind of persons with whom the abbess can confidently share the burden of her office.  They are to be chosen for virtuous living and wise teaching, not for their rank.

If perhaps one of these deans is to be found puffed up with any pride, and so deserving of censure, that person is to be reproved once, twice and even a third time.  Should that dean refuse to amend, he or she must be removed from office and replaced by another who is worthy.  We prescribe the same course of action in regard to the prioress or prior.

The Rule of Saint Benedict has sometimes been described as wisdom literature.  It is a spiritual document as much as it is a legislative one.  So the “officers,” if you will, of the monastery are not mere functionaries for the administration of the collective.  They are also role models.

When Benedict looks for leadership in the monastery he does not require defined skill sets; rather, he looks for particular virtues.  In the case of the deans, he does not ask that they be highly organized or have a good head for business or be charismatic leaders—though there is nothing at all wrong with these talents.  Instead, he looks for persons of “good repute and holy life” (21.1) and “virtuous living and wise teaching” (21.4)—the very same qualities that he commands for the abbot or abbess, that person who “is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery” (2.2).

All of this notion begs the question:  Why do we need role models at our age?  Aren’t we all grown-ups here?  If you think you are a fully-formed adult and, therefore, all you are ever likely to be, think again!

Years ago I heard a sermon in which the preacher used such biblical luminaries as Moses the murderer, David the adulterer, and Mary the teenaged unwed mother to make the point that “God doesn’t use our past to determine our future, so why should we?”  My sisters and brothers, with God’s help and the support of other believers, we can become that which we were created to be—namely, good and holy, virtuous and wise…the image of God.

Here’s one suggestion that might help:  If you know someone that you admire, ask yourself why you esteem that person.  Are they someone whom you would want to be more like?  If so, watch them.  Watch how they treat other persons, how they listen or hold open a door or read a scripture.  The object is not to become clones of this person.  That would not be possible.  They have their own chemistry and their own history which we cannot possibly recreate.  No, the point is to try on some of the behaviors you observe in them, knowing that these outward expressions are manifestations of inward graces.

At Compline last night we reminded ourselves that the motivation for the Benedictine life is nothing less and nothing other than the love of God, learning to “prefer nothing whatever to Christ” (72.11).  If we want models for how to live up to this imposing ideal, we need look no further than the sisters and brothers around us.

Crucifix in the Saint Francis Chapel

FEELS LIKE HOME

(retreat: from the Latin for “spending time drawing closer to Jesus with your peeps”)

We made it!  Saint Brigid of Kildare Monastery’s 2011 retreat is off to a lively start.  All made a safe arrival, though weary from travels.  Some folks drove over 25 hours straight to be here.  Amazing.  The things we do for love.

            Our evening was spent with the usual first night mix of eating, praying, orientation, more praying, more eating, a bit of walking and the enjoyment of one another’s company.  Six of this year’s participants have never before been to a Saint Brigid’s retreat.  You wouldn’t know it, though.  These gatherings always feel like coming home to family.

Please keep those of us gathered here in prayer; you will be in ours.

Grace and Peace,
+Mary

Compline Reflection for Monday

RB 72.  The Good Zeal of Monks

Just as there is a wicked zeal of bitterness which separates from God and leads to hell, so there is a good zeal which separates from evil and leads to God and everlasting life. This, then, is the good zeal which monks must foster with fervent love:  They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other (Rom. 12:10), supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another.  No one is to pursue what one judges better for oneself, but instead, what one judges better for someone else.  To other monks they show the pure love of sisters and brothers; to God, loving fear; to their abbess, unfeigned and humble love.  Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and may he bring us all together to everlasting life.

            We are gathered on retreat first and foremost in order to draw closer to God in prayer; second, to refresh ourselves that we may go out with renewed strength for service to the gospel; and third, to take joy in the company of our sisters and brothers, deepening the bonds of community in love.

I encourage us, one and all, to take full advantage of the opportunity we are given in these few days to practice the good zeal of monks on each other:  to show respect, to support and encourage, to be patient with each other and to listen.

It seems at face value as if these practices should be particularly easy in a setting like this one, wherein we are surrounded by the perfect saints of God, talking about holy and uplifting matters in a place where everything around us—the rhythm of the days, the content of our discussions, the psalms and prayers, the buildings, the beauty of the natural environment—is oriented in one direction:  Godward. 

But fair warning:  Someone or something at some time during the week will somehow likely manage to prick at your nerves.  It might be lack of sleep or early hours (or late hours) or the person who lags behind or drives ahead in prayer or maybe even something that is said.

           That is exactly the point at which our good zeal, our care for each other’s souls, will be put to the test.  Make it your task, then, to turn to Christ—not just in the heavenly realm, but as he comes to you in your sister or brother, right here, right now.  Reverence Christ.  Serve Christ.  Listen to Christ.  Prefer nothing whatever to the Christ sitting next to you right now.

The wisdom of Saint Benedict is that we do not go to God alone.  We are fellow disciples in this “school of the Lord’s service.” (Prol 45)  Our motivation, our goal is love.  Let us love Christ—in each other—with all our hearts, that he may “bring us all together to everlasting life” (72.12).

Go Ahead...Play with Fire!

(On spiritual pyromania)

Whether you prefer to think of this week as the beginning of the season of Pentecost or as Week 11 of Ordinary Time, there is still no better time to shout a loud “Come, Holy Spirit!” 

At the moment, I’m up to my eyeballs in last minute retreat preparations (see Blogger’s Note below) and so am too preoccupied to offer a treatise on how the Rule of Benedict regards the Third Person of the Trinity, but suffice it to say that our sainted patron is generally otherwise focused; he is much more honed in on Christ our Lord, our model, our protector, our Savior, our guide.  In fact, Benedict mentions the Holy Spirit only a scant three times.  Here are the references:

Ø  Prologue 11-12: “You that have ears to hear, listen to what the Spirit says to the churches (Rev 2:7).  And what does he say?  Come and listen to me, sons [and daughters]; I will teach you the fear of the Lord (Ps 34:12).”

Ø  7.70:  [on humility] “All this the Lord will by the Holy Spirit graciously manifest in his workers now cleansed of vices and sins.”

Ø  49.5-6: [on the observance of Lent] “During these days, therefore, we will add to the usual measure of our service something by way of private prayer and abstinence from food or drink, so that each of us will have something above the assigned measure to offer God of one’s own will with the joy of the Holy Spirit (1 Thess 1:6).”

We can deduce from these few pieces of evidence that Saint Benedict understood God the Holy Spirit in at least these ways:

Ø  As God speaking to us

Ø  As God calling us

Ø  As God teaching us

Ø  As God working in us

Ø  As God filling us with joy as we do the good work of self-denial for the sake of a deeper communion with God and with our sisters and brothers

Okay, so maybe the Rule does give us a fair amount of fodder for prayer and theological cogitation re: The Holy Ghost.  But I’m still not going to ramble on about it today.  Instead, allow me to serve up a complementary dish from our venerable tradition of Methodist hymnody.   This hymn by Andrew Reed (1787-1862) was included in the 1960 Methodist Hymnal, but for some reason did not make the cut for the 1989 United Methodist Hymnal.  (Life and editing are all about choices, I suppose.)  O come, great Spirit, come!

Grace be with you,

+Mary

                                                   

Spirit Divine, Attend Our Prayers

Spirit divine, attend our prayers

And make this house thy home;

Descend with all thy gracious powers:

O come, great Spirit, come!

Come as the fire, and purge our hearts

Like sacrificial flame;

Let our whole soul and offering be

To our Redeemer’s name.

Come as the dove and spread thy wings,

The wings of peaceful love,

And let thy Church on earth become

Blest as the Church above.

Spirit divine, attend our prayers

And make this world thy home;

Descend with all thy gracious powers:

O come, great Spirit come!

Blogger’s Note:

As mentioned above, Saint Brigid of Kildare Monastery will be holding our annual retreat next week.  I covet your prayers for the event; please know that you will be in mine.  It is my intention (the best laid plans of mice and monks!) to post a reflection and perhaps a picture or two every evening as a little taste of the gathering of saints.  It would be wonderful if we could all be together in one place, but we at least have the assurance that we are together in one heart.

NOW SHOWING: ALLELUIA COMES TO TOWN

(Note to patrons:  There will be no intermission in this performance.)

At Morning Prayer last Wednesday, one of the Sisters kindly asked how I am doing after a full year of more-than-usual challenges in work, family and other miscellaneous matters.   In the joy of that glorious Spring day and after the uplifting of common prayer, I replied that despite the rough patches it had been a year of great blessings and I wouldn’t change a thing.

            But maybe that response—heartfelt as it was—was not quite accurate.  It was a year of great blessings, but there are a few things from the past twelve months that I wouldn’t mind blotting out with a cosmic Magic Erase sponge, especially those moments when I saw the road sign that read “Christian Perfection This Way” and I chose to turn around and go That Way instead.  And as much as I rejoice over his entry into eternal bliss, I would dearly love to have a little (or a lot) more time with my friend and Abba.  That’s the way it is this side of Eden, though.  A lot of life happens between the Incarnation and the Resurrection—as in Jesus’ history, so in ours, as well.

            Still in all, I am a grateful and happy camper—feeling closer to Christ than ever I have before, trusting in the Loving Hand of God more than I ever have before and rejoicing in the strong bonds of our monastic community on a very daily basis.  Given the sum of these things, one could hardly keep from shouting a loud Alleluia!

Brother Mani lets his Alleluia spirit soar!

Which brings us to the topic du jour:   Alleluias in the Rule of Saint Benedict.

Chapters 8 through 20 of the Rule are commonly referred to as its “Liturgical Code.” This section follows directly after Benedict’s invitation to and explanation of the foundational virtues and practices of monasticism.  He sets the table and then brings on the meal with its various courses, textures and delights.  He gives us plenty of fiber but some tasty treats, as well.

Within the chapters on the liturgy of hours (the opus Dei or “work of God,” as Benedict calls it), we are provided with enough detail to make a non-liturgist’s head spin over what to say when, who goes where and how to do most everything at the common prayers.  He gives us instructions about praying at morning, praying during the day, praying at night, praying in the middle of the night, praying on ordinary days, praying on special days and anniversaries, how many psalms to pray and in what order to pray them, the proper attitude to carry in prayer, and yes, a chapter dedicated solely to instructions on praying the Alleluias.[i]

The version of the Rule that we in Saint Brigid’s Monastery use most regularly—RB 1980—begins chapter 15 this way:  “From the holy feast of Easter until Pentecost, ‘alleluia’ is always said with both the psalms and the responsories.” “Always” is a translation of the Latin term sine intermissione.  It is probably accurate to Benedict’s intent but, as is often the case, a different translation caused me to think differently about the passage:  “From holy Easter until Pentecost let the Alleluia be said without intermission, both with the psalms and with the responsories.”[ii]

What if we were to accept this more literal translation and adopt it as our Easter People motto, both in and out of the oratory?  “From holy Easter until Pentecost let the Alleluia be said without intermission!”  How would our prayers be changed?  How might we come to view the world differently?  And how would our everyday interactions with other children of God be affected?  Would they not be radically altered?  Imagine the most usual of greetings—“How’s it going?”—being met with a response—“Alleluia!”—that rocketed our perspective out of the daily mire into the truer Reality of God’s eternal embrace!

In the comings and goings and plodding and sameness of our days it is easy to lose sight of the fact that Jesus Christ in his loving self-sacrifice and triumphant defeat over the power of sin and death, changed not only our eternal prospects but our daily ones, as well.

“..the snare is broken,
          and we have escaped.
Our help is in the name of the Lord,
          who made heaven and earth.”

                                       Ps 124:7b-8

  So, my beloved, let us take Benedict’s encouragement to heart.  Let us claim the great gift of our deliverance from all that detracts from our imago Dei-ness.  And let the grateful Alleluias sound from our lips sine intermissione! [iii]

Grace and much Resurrection Joy be with you all,

+Mary

   

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[i] Note: Benedict did not write in chapter and verse; these demarcations were the work of later editors.  Nonetheless, it is significant that he gave Alleluias their own special treatment.
[ii] Translation by Boniface Verheyen, OSB; Abbey Student Press of Saint Benedict’s College, Atchison, Kansas, 1923.

[iii] In case you feel like singing a few choruses, here are two videos to get the Alleluia juices flowing:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXh7JR9oKVE; and http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCFCeJTEzNU.

In Praise of Lament

(We Christians are an enigmatic bunch.)

Enter “Benedictine” or “Rule” into an internet search engine and you will find quite an array of topics to which creative authors have applied the guidance of Saint Benedict:  business leadership, parenting, sports, everyday life in “the world,” and so on.  A quick scan might make it seem as if he had something to say about everything.  While it is true that the wisdom of the Rule is timeless and to some degree portable, it won’t help you with your short game or earn you an “I ♥ MY BOSS” coffee mug.  And here’s a tip:  Don’t go looking to it for instructions on how to observe Holy Week, either; you won’t find any. 

If you consider the liturgical life of Benedict’s monasteries, however, you will find quite a bounty of material for marking the season.  One of the common practices observed by Benedictines—and other traditions, as well—is the chanting of Lamentations during the Triduum (pronounced “trih-doo-um”; literally, “three days”) leading up to Easter.  It is stunningly affecting:  A lone cantor standing before the assembly, singing clear and solemn.  Not rushed (one cannot hurry grief), no accompaniment—just a single, stark lament raised up for all who bow down in prayer. 

“How lonely sits the city that once was full of people!  How like a widow she has become, she that was great among the nations.” 

It is like the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Repent!”  “Prepare!”  In tone and meter, it reminds me of the keening of my Irish ancestors, a ritual cry of grief on behalf of all the suffering.  The Lamentations are a haunting report of desolation, as rightly they should be.

If much of the focus of our Lenten disciplines has up to now been on personal repentance and conversion, then the corporate lament of these three days ought to remind us that our individual journeys can never be divorced from that of one’s sisters and brothers.  All we like sheep have gone astray.  The whole creation groans as it yearns to be made new in Christ.

The witness of scripture casts us corporately into a great mystery, an inquisition before the gates of heaven:  Why was it that Christ had to die on the cross?  How could a loving God allow such a merciless fate to befall a blameless Son?  What part do our iniquities take in this passion play?

I recently heard a pastor assert from the pulpit that the sacrifice of Jesus was not an atonement for our sins because to require the shedding of blood for our repair would make God into some sort of monster; rather, he suggested, Christ died to model for us in a dramatic manner the way of self-giving to which all Christians are called.  While such an explanation might make the crucifixion more palatable to our contemporary sensibilities, it fails to take seriously either the testimony of scripture or the church’s tradition or the bald reality of sin and its consequences. 

The cross is hard stuff.  It is a stumbling block to those who look for signs that God will always intervene for the Righteous and it is foolishness to those who place mere human wisdom in a paramount place of their religion. [i]  But for those who believe…well…it is called the Paschal Mystery for a reason.  We embrace Christ’s act as our salvation, even when we do not fully comprehend why it must be so.

We will save a wider exploration of Christ as Savior in the Rule for another time.  (That’s a full meal, and I’m only serving side dishes today.)  Let this reminder suffice for now:  Benedict was not a systematic theologian.  He was not given to lengthy—or even brief—excurses on the philosophical underpinnings of the monastic life.  Rather, he followed that ubiquitous modern day advice: “Just do it.”

This is not to say that the Rule gives us no insights into the path we travel with Jesus toward Jerusalem.  For instance,

 

·         Benedict begins the liturgical journey with Easter, unlike his predecessor, the Rule of the Master, which begins with Lent.[ii]  For him, the most important consideration seems to be Christ’s triumph rather than our feeble striving.  It is as if he is saying to us, “The hard things are real and will be ever present,[iii] but there is glory awaiting us when we follow Christ (RB Prol. 50). Persevere in joy!”

·         Our willful disobedience has separated us from God (Prol. 2), but the work of conversion through obedience and our abiding trust in the mercy of God (4.74) will bring us home again.

·         Lenten tears of compunction (49.4) will moisten our cheeks, but we should never allow them to wash away our joy in the Resurrection (v. 7).

·         The valley of the shadow of death is not our final destination nor do we sojourn through it alone.  Christ is our guide and he will bring us all together to everlasting life (72.11).

Monasteries—whether of the traditional, residential sort or of the dispersed variety, such as Saint Brigid’s—are faith communities in which the Cross stands plainly at the center.  We take the lament of Jeremiah and the cry of John the Baptist (sometimes said to be the prototype of the monk) with utter seriousness in season and out.  We are always and everywhere called to heed the Divine invitation: “If today you hear God’s voice, harden not your hearts.” (Ps 95:8; Prol. 10)[iv]

Monastics are not, therefore, enamored of a morbid fatalism or an unhealthy fascination with humanity’s penchant for sin; on the contrary, Benedictines are on the whole some of the most joyful people one would ever hope to meet.  It is precisely because we take sin seriously that we must take hope seriously; otherwise, the entire Christian endeavor is for naught.  The cross would have the last word and the tomb would gloat.

I encourage you to spend some lectio time with Lamentations during these Three Days.  Mourn that the world—that we—too often turn away from the God who made us and who loves us.  Raise up a cry for compassion to the One who promised to hear.  And look forward with every fiber of your believing being to the fulfillment of the promise of the Cross.  Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again!

Grace be with you,

+Mary
IOGD
   

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[i] 1 Corinthians 1:18-25

[ii] Terrence Kardong on RB 41.1:  “As in RB 48.23 [and 10.1], where he also begins with Easter, he shows that the festal season is fundamental to his thinking, with fasting an important but secondary complement.  For the Master, however, fasting is mentioned first (RM 28.3), and Lent is the first element considered in the horarium (RM 50.8ff).”  Benedict’s Rule (Collegeville, MN:  The Liturgical Press, 1996) p. 333.

[iii] Benedict goes so far as to say that when discerning a candidate’s vocation, “The concern must be whether the novice truly seeks God and whether that person shows eagerness for the Work of God, for obedience and for trials.” (RB 587)

[iv] And this beautiful word of truth:  “What, dear brothers and sisters, is more delightful than this voice of the Lord calling to us?” (Prol. 19)

Picture Not-so-Perfect

(“I believe in looking reality straight in the eye and denying it.”  Garrison Keillor)

Is it just me or does anyone else think their driver’s license photo doesn’t look like them?  When my new license came in the mail the other day, I stared at it and thought, “Well…in a certain light I can see a resemblance, but it definitely does not capture my essential je ne sais quoi.” 

It was about that time that a stroke of entrepreneurial genius hit me:  I could gather ten of my closest friends/donors and open a nationwide chain of glamour shot studios just for driver’s license IDs—passports, too, and maybe even mug shots.  The stores could be called something like Classy Pix 1 Minute Photos.  (Everything sounds much more sophisticated if it’s called “Classy.”) No 8”x10” glossies, just 1”x1” matte.  I’m telling you, it’s a fortune waiting to happen.  Now if we can only convince the DMV…

You might be wondering what in the world any of this fluff has to do with the Rule of Saint Benedict.  It concerns seeing the truth about ourselves.  You see, I knew that the average grocery store cashier would take one glance at my aspect on that license and never question that it is me in the picture.  Being connoisseurs of ourselves, however, we are much more discerning about the nuances of a portrait’s accuracy.  Some snapshots just don’t measure up in our own eyes even if they look like dead ringers to everyone else.  So if we sometimes disagree with other persons about that which is most apparent—i.e. our physical appearance—then how much more might we be at odds over that part of us which cannot be seen—i.e. our interior life?  In the chasm between the two echo Pilate’s Passiontide plea, “What is truth?”[i]

Anyone who has ever felt misunderstood and then spent more than 30 or 40 seconds honestly reviewing that experience can testify that we are not always very good at seeing ourselves as other persons see us.  Sometimes we cling to exaggerated negative images of ourselves and sometimes we paint a rococo-ish portrait of ourselves as paragons of virtue.  Oftentimes we regard ourselves too much in relation to our perception of other persons’ faults or favors—how I stack up against so-and-so’s goodness or badness or talents or looks or bank account or [fill in your own personal yardstick].  All of these things say a lot about how we view ourselves and only a little about how our neighbor sees us.

And if we extend the self-examination to the spiritual plane, we might also admit that mostly we haven’t a clue how God views us. 

We are awfully, terribly, ingeniously clever about bending reality to our preferred way of seeing.  No news here.  Our Scripture-writing ancestors in the faith were acutely aware of the human propensity for self-deception.  That’s why the psalmist so earnest prayed for God to help us with our vision problem.

But who can detect their errors?

                        Clear me from hidden faults.

Keep back your servant also from proud thoughts;

                        do not let them have dominion over me.

Then I shall be blameless, and innocent of great transgression.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart

                        be acceptable to you,

                        O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

                                                            Psalm 19:12-14

            Benedict, being a man of The Book, knew well the durability of this trait within us.  In order to help us re-focus, he urged his followers to take full advantage of the Lenten season of introspection and repentance.  Our learned saint appointed some strong lenses for the task:  prayer, lectio, fasting, abstaining from some sleep and needless chatter or other forms of self-denial that receive the imprimatur of one’s abbot or abbess (RB 49.4-7).

It sounds like a lot of effort for churchy stuff.  Why go to all this trouble?  Here are the CliffsNotes:

·         How we see ourselves is important because it will inevitably affect how we see God and how we treat God’s children and good Creation; in other words, we treat others not only according to how we view them but how we (if only subconsciously) view ourselves.

·         How other persons see us is important not only because it affects how they treat us but it also gives us clues into how we are presenting ourselves to the world.

·         How our Creator sees us is the Reality which we creatures are intended to inhabit.  It is important to know this “true self”—i.e. our “image of God”-ness—so that we may give proper glory to the One in whose image we were so wondrously and mysteriously made.

In a nutshell, it is about humility—that is, seeing ourselves as God does, and then acting accordingly.  No virtue looms larger in the Rule.  Humility can thus be called the point of the whole monastic project.  By it we come to know who we are in relation to our Lord and Savior—he who did not despise the wretched death of Good Friday in order to bring us to the resurrected life of Easter.  It is a knowledge that ought to fill our hearts with an insatiable gratitude.  It is the basis of all true worship, for it is through humility that we learn what it means to “prefer nothing whatever to Christ” (72.11).[ii]

When Benedict sketched out the how-to’s of Lent in the monastery, it was his way of helping us clean our mirrors.  The monastic life allows no glamour shots for the soul.  What it offers instead is a good dose of spiritual Windex so that we can see ourselves as we really are, warts and all.  Lent wipes away the soul grime that keeps us from a clearer vision of ourselves.[iii]  Like the picture on my license, I’m not always happy with what the process reveals of me.  But if I’m willing to own up to some reality and scrub away the yuck, then eventually the face that I see looking back at me will be no less than the image of God.  Sounds like a pretty good deal when you think about it.

Grace be with you,

+Mary

IOGD

Brother Mani bravely takes a good, hard look in the mirror

 

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[i] John 18:38.

[ii] From St. Cyprian, “We prefer nothing to Christ because he preferred nothing to us”…an immensely touching regard for such lame creatures as we.
[iii] Note:  Even though Lenten asceticisms are part and parcel of being Benedictine, interior housework is ultimately a voluntary thing; no one can make us take it to heart.  It must be our own mature choice for conversio.  As I recently heard one preacher say, “If we don’t want to see who we are, we don’t stand in front of the mirror.”