Chapter 55 pt. 1
The Rule of St. Benedict August 7
Today is the first day of school in our household. Our oldest is beginning Middle School, and our youngest, Kindergarten. It's a big day. The Middle School my oldest will attend has returned to the practice of requiring a uniform to be worn on campus. It is claimed that such a practice eliminates one way that middle and high schoolers regularly go about distinguishing themselves from one another in order to gain attention, display wealth, or identify themselves with a group. While clearly there are other ways to gain distinction and do these sorts of things, in most stories I've heard, the requirement to wear a specific uniform is a relief to students. One major weight seems to be lifted from the minds and hearts of pre-teens and teenagers during a critical developmental period in their lives. Everyone, at least when it comes to clothes, is in the same boat at school.
Benedict's instructions on dress seem to be a part of his overall approach to life in common. It boils down to the point at which we each release our claim on Creation as one who must obtain, possess, and secure resources and distinction. I hear Jesus' words in Matthew 6 echoed here: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear." This is a crucial and difficult component of the process of inner transformation that our Father Benedict seeks to further among us.
Br. Chad 2012
A repository of sermons from those who preach at St. Augustine's Episcopal Parish during the vicar's sabbatical.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
August 6
The Feast of The Transfiguration of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Chapter 54
The Rule of St. Benedict August 6
Chapter 54
The Rule of St. Benedict August 6
On this glorious feast in which Sts. Peter, James, and John witnessed the splendor of Our Lord shining upon the peak, let us attend to that within us which, like St. Peter, needs to possess and which needs to control what comes to us. These are mountains brought low to prepare the way of the Lord.
And let us also attend to that within us which feels unworthy to receive from the generous hand of God. These are valleys raised up.
When the Lord's path into or lives is level, we are able to receive God and bear God into the world, joyfully offering what has been entrusted to us for the benefit of all.
Br. Chad 2012
Sunday, August 5, 2012
August 5
Chapter 53 pt. 2
The Rule of St. Benedict August 5
As Sr. Joan points out regarding this passage, Benedictine monasteries functioned as a hospice system within early Medieval Europe, with a constant flow of guests from all walks of life, and the instructions here about a separate kitchen and quarters for guests enabled the monastery to still be a monastery despite the traffic. Part of the way the monastic atmosphere was to be preserved was for the instructions at the end of Chapter 53 to be followed regarding the interactions of monks with guests. Monks are to be humble and kind to guests, but not necessarily nice.
Niceness, a perceived affect according to social norms, is a poor substitute for kindness, which is a genuine concern for the well-being of the other. It is easy for some of us to confuse smiles and pleasant tones of voice with the things that make for true kindness and hospitality. If we continue in this confusion for long enough, we become unable to distinguish between kindness and unkindness, hospitality and inhospitality.
My experience as a person who is generally considered to be nice is that niceness is entirely oriented outwardly. It is something I measure by what bounces back to me from the exterior of other people. My ego has been very successful at getting what it needs from this external exchange, and I have come to realize that it usually serves to keep me self-absorbed--caught up in my own self-interest. More introverted people, on the other hand, may exhibit self-absorption differently, but it's still oriented outwardly--concerned with relational or circumstantial phenomena--and it serves their self-interest as well.
Now, an extrovert can be nice without being self-absorbed, and an introvert can be silent without being self-absorbed, but it's a matter of perceiving clearly what our motives are and developing a sense of ourselves that is derived from our inner and true identity, our life hidden with Christ in God, as St. Paul says in Colossians 3. When we act from that place, we are able to be truly kind.
Br. Chad 2012
The Rule of St. Benedict August 5
As Sr. Joan points out regarding this passage, Benedictine monasteries functioned as a hospice system within early Medieval Europe, with a constant flow of guests from all walks of life, and the instructions here about a separate kitchen and quarters for guests enabled the monastery to still be a monastery despite the traffic. Part of the way the monastic atmosphere was to be preserved was for the instructions at the end of Chapter 53 to be followed regarding the interactions of monks with guests. Monks are to be humble and kind to guests, but not necessarily nice.
Niceness, a perceived affect according to social norms, is a poor substitute for kindness, which is a genuine concern for the well-being of the other. It is easy for some of us to confuse smiles and pleasant tones of voice with the things that make for true kindness and hospitality. If we continue in this confusion for long enough, we become unable to distinguish between kindness and unkindness, hospitality and inhospitality.
My experience as a person who is generally considered to be nice is that niceness is entirely oriented outwardly. It is something I measure by what bounces back to me from the exterior of other people. My ego has been very successful at getting what it needs from this external exchange, and I have come to realize that it usually serves to keep me self-absorbed--caught up in my own self-interest. More introverted people, on the other hand, may exhibit self-absorption differently, but it's still oriented outwardly--concerned with relational or circumstantial phenomena--and it serves their self-interest as well.
Now, an extrovert can be nice without being self-absorbed, and an introvert can be silent without being self-absorbed, but it's a matter of perceiving clearly what our motives are and developing a sense of ourselves that is derived from our inner and true identity, our life hidden with Christ in God, as St. Paul says in Colossians 3. When we act from that place, we are able to be truly kind.
Br. Chad 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
August 4
Chapter 53 pt. 1
The Rule of St. Benedict August 4
The Rule of St. Benedict August 4
It is well worth reading all of Sr. Joan Chittister's commentary for today's passage. Regarding receiving the unknown guest into the midst of the community, she writes,
The message to the stranger is clear: Come right in and disturb our perfect lives. You are Christ for us today.
And to assure us all, guest and monastic alike, that this hospitality is an act of God that we are undertaking, the community and the guest pray together first and then extend the kiss of welcome so that it is understood that our welcome is not based on human measurements alone: we like you, we're impressed with you, you look like our kind, you're clean and scrubbed and minty-breathed and worthy of our attention.
There are many ways in which we all have occasion to practice the essence of this hospitality our Father Benedict describes, and many ways that we can forsake it. When it comes to being hospitable to the poor, in whom Christ is "especially" received, a reflection from Robert Berra, our friend and a divinity student from our parish, is helpful to consider:
Every time I see people try to weasel out of a charitable human spirit, I remember that an antidote to it is found in --of all places-- the Christian Patristic Fathers.
Gregory Nazienzen, a bishop in the 370s, confronted reasons people give to not help the poor, reasons that are as familiar to us as they were to Gregory: some people deserve to be poor, they brought it upon themselves, there is "not enough", or it's a punishment from God. Gregory will have none of it. In fact, in the face of these objections, service to the poor is necessary so that we might "restrain those who have such an attitude towards [the poor], and [that we] might not give in to their foolish arguments, making cruelty into a law turned against our very selves."Br. Chad 2012
Friday, August 3, 2012
August 3
Chapter 52
The Rule of St. Benedict August 3
"[T]o know God in time and space we must regularly seek to find God in one time and space that enables us to recognize God more easily in every other one," concludes Sr. Joan's commentary on Chapter 52.
At St. Gregory's Abbey I witnessed the value of a space being set aside as the oratory in which nothing but prayer was done. The church stands soaked in the prayers of the resident community. For more than 70 years the monks have gathered 7 times a day to chant the Psalms, celebrate daily Eucharist, light incense and candles, read the Scriptures, and sit in silence within the wooden walls of the abbey church. It is a living and holy place.
During the last week of April this year, I was alone at St. Augustine's on Tuesday. As had been my practice, I went to St. James Chapel, off the narthex of the main church building where our columbarium and votive candle stand make their home, to pray at noon. Instead of lighting the altar candles, sitting down, opening my prayer books, and getting on with it, however, I felt compelled to begin moving furniture. I experienced a strange mix of exhilaration and guilt as I began to slide the pews and move the banners and flags that had gathered haphazardly around the small space. It was almost as though the chapel was asking me to re-imagine its use and to set it aside for prayer and only prayer. The pews found their way into an antiphonal seating arrangement with a lectern and candle stand in the center, facing the altar. It wanted to become a Benedictine oratory. I thought for sure I had done something that would not bode well with the altar guild and others in the congregation, and that I would have to return the chapel to its former state before Sunday. I quickly and dismissively said as much to Fr. Gil the next morning as we walked over from the office we share to see what I had done. But rather than disapproval, the transformed chapel was met with enthusiastic support by Fr. Gil, the chair of the altar guild, and all who entered.
St. James Chapel is the oratory for the Community of St. Mary of the Annunciation. It is being soaked in our prayers and the prayers of the saints it houses in its very walls. It is becoming our living and holy place.
The Rule of St. Benedict August 3
"[T]o know God in time and space we must regularly seek to find God in one time and space that enables us to recognize God more easily in every other one," concludes Sr. Joan's commentary on Chapter 52.
At St. Gregory's Abbey I witnessed the value of a space being set aside as the oratory in which nothing but prayer was done. The church stands soaked in the prayers of the resident community. For more than 70 years the monks have gathered 7 times a day to chant the Psalms, celebrate daily Eucharist, light incense and candles, read the Scriptures, and sit in silence within the wooden walls of the abbey church. It is a living and holy place.
During the last week of April this year, I was alone at St. Augustine's on Tuesday. As had been my practice, I went to St. James Chapel, off the narthex of the main church building where our columbarium and votive candle stand make their home, to pray at noon. Instead of lighting the altar candles, sitting down, opening my prayer books, and getting on with it, however, I felt compelled to begin moving furniture. I experienced a strange mix of exhilaration and guilt as I began to slide the pews and move the banners and flags that had gathered haphazardly around the small space. It was almost as though the chapel was asking me to re-imagine its use and to set it aside for prayer and only prayer. The pews found their way into an antiphonal seating arrangement with a lectern and candle stand in the center, facing the altar. It wanted to become a Benedictine oratory. I thought for sure I had done something that would not bode well with the altar guild and others in the congregation, and that I would have to return the chapel to its former state before Sunday. I quickly and dismissively said as much to Fr. Gil the next morning as we walked over from the office we share to see what I had done. But rather than disapproval, the transformed chapel was met with enthusiastic support by Fr. Gil, the chair of the altar guild, and all who entered.
St. James Chapel is the oratory for the Community of St. Mary of the Annunciation. It is being soaked in our prayers and the prayers of the saints it houses in its very walls. It is becoming our living and holy place.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
August 2
Chapter 51
The Rule of St. Benedict August 2
At first glance, this chapter seems a bit bizarre. What's the big deal about accepting hospitality when outside the monastery on business? To make sense of it, I find it helpful to remember that the table and the oratory are the two pillars of community life for a Benedictine. When one takes vows to become a member of a Benedictine community, then, the table becomes an important crucible of formation along the path laid out by our Father Benedict, a path one has vowed to walk. To sit at another table without permission from the community is to say, "I am not bound by my vows. I do not need the common table." And so, as we discussed during the chapters about the discipline of the Rule, the natural consequence for such behavior is to be excluded from the community table in order to bring into sharp relief the choice one faces between life inside or life outside of the community.
We have the occasional opportunity to see a similar story at play in the Olympic Games. To be an Olympian is to conform to a set of clearly defined, somewhat esoteric standards of behavior, and we have seen in the last weeks that there are consequences for not conforming to those standards. One does not get to post racist tweets, use performance enhancing substances, or throw badminton matches and still receive the benefits of being an Olympian.
One crucial difference to note between the Olympics and Benedictine community, however, is that discipline in the idiom of St. Benedict is always intended to restore the errant member to full communion with the sisters and brothers.
Br. Chad 2012
The Rule of St. Benedict August 2
At first glance, this chapter seems a bit bizarre. What's the big deal about accepting hospitality when outside the monastery on business? To make sense of it, I find it helpful to remember that the table and the oratory are the two pillars of community life for a Benedictine. When one takes vows to become a member of a Benedictine community, then, the table becomes an important crucible of formation along the path laid out by our Father Benedict, a path one has vowed to walk. To sit at another table without permission from the community is to say, "I am not bound by my vows. I do not need the common table." And so, as we discussed during the chapters about the discipline of the Rule, the natural consequence for such behavior is to be excluded from the community table in order to bring into sharp relief the choice one faces between life inside or life outside of the community.
We have the occasional opportunity to see a similar story at play in the Olympic Games. To be an Olympian is to conform to a set of clearly defined, somewhat esoteric standards of behavior, and we have seen in the last weeks that there are consequences for not conforming to those standards. One does not get to post racist tweets, use performance enhancing substances, or throw badminton matches and still receive the benefits of being an Olympian.
One crucial difference to note between the Olympics and Benedictine community, however, is that discipline in the idiom of St. Benedict is always intended to restore the errant member to full communion with the sisters and brothers.
Br. Chad 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
August 1
Feast of Joseph of Arimathaea
Chapter 50
The Rule of St. Benedict August 1
"[W]hen the ideal [of community prayer, the Opus Dei,] is confronted by the real, Benedict opts for the sanctification of the real rather than the idealization of the holy," writes Sr. Joan in her commentary on Chapter 50. This little chapter is of central importance for those of us who seek to practice Benedictine disciplines outside of the cloister. We must be about the sanctification of the real, if we are to have any hope of staying remotely close to the path that our Father Benedict has laid out.
One way we sanctify the real is by finding the circumstances of our real life in stories of the Faith. And one way human beings have found to embody the Divine Presence in the mundane settings we call "real" is through the imaginative work of legend and myth. The early Christians in Britain found in Joseph of Arimathaea a connection between life on the ground in what is now called Cornwall and Glastonbury and the story of Jesus' Passion and Death. This connection bore the fruit of the Grail myths, a powerful transformative tradition in the West for nearly 1000 years.
It is the work of each Benedictine community to connect their reality with the luminous Presence embodied by St. Benedict of Nursia in 6th Century Italy, and shaping our real lives around daily prayer is the place to begin.
Br. Chad 2012
Chapter 50
The Rule of St. Benedict August 1
"[W]hen the ideal [of community prayer, the Opus Dei,] is confronted by the real, Benedict opts for the sanctification of the real rather than the idealization of the holy," writes Sr. Joan in her commentary on Chapter 50. This little chapter is of central importance for those of us who seek to practice Benedictine disciplines outside of the cloister. We must be about the sanctification of the real, if we are to have any hope of staying remotely close to the path that our Father Benedict has laid out.
One way we sanctify the real is by finding the circumstances of our real life in stories of the Faith. And one way human beings have found to embody the Divine Presence in the mundane settings we call "real" is through the imaginative work of legend and myth. The early Christians in Britain found in Joseph of Arimathaea a connection between life on the ground in what is now called Cornwall and Glastonbury and the story of Jesus' Passion and Death. This connection bore the fruit of the Grail myths, a powerful transformative tradition in the West for nearly 1000 years.
It is the work of each Benedictine community to connect their reality with the luminous Presence embodied by St. Benedict of Nursia in 6th Century Italy, and shaping our real lives around daily prayer is the place to begin.
Br. Chad 2012
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