On Benedictine Asceticism
"Once upon a time a master had a visitor who came to inquire about Zen. But instead of listening, the visitor kept chattering about his own concerns and giving his own thoughts. After a while, the master served tea. He poured tea into the visitor's cup until it was full and he kept on pouring.
Finally the visitor could not bear it any longer. 'Don't you see that my cup is full? It is not possible to get any more tea in.' 'Just so,' said the master, stopping at last. 'And like this cup you are filled with your own ideas. How can you expect me to give you Zen unless you first empty your cup?'"
Benedict does not have a chapter on advent or on any other liturgical season. Chapter 49 is written regarding Lenten practice and preparation for Holy Easter. It is a little jewel, taking material that could be negative and brutal and casting it in the most positive, generous, and theologically sound manner.
One way to hear Benedict's admonitions is as an invitation to self-emptying. Nature abhors a vacuum. If you plow a field and don't tend to it on a regular basis, it will not be long before all kinds of things are growing. It is amazing how many weed seeds are in the ground, just waiting for a chance to sprout.
We certainly know how difficult it is to keep spaces open on our desks, or in our rooms. By analogy our lives fill up, take on clutter.
A monastic Lent is about emptying our cups, so that there is room for the Word of God, space for the Holy Spirit to work. Lent is about taking stock of time and how we use it, how we fill it.
Lent is about exercising the control that enables us to say no to ourselves, and yes to the work of God in us. I want to make some general comments about chapter 49 and then return to this theme of self-emptying.
Our tradition is very clear about the priority of God's grace working in us. Already in Deuteronomy God reminds Israel that it is chosen not because it is the brainiest, the brawniest, or the largest of nations (Deut. 7.7-8). God chooses Israel out of sheer love and out of fidelity to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
This theme is more pronounced in the New Testament. In John, chapter 15, we hear the words: "It was not you who chose me; it was I who chose you to go and bear fruit that will remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name he may give you" (John 15.16). And the earlier verses in John 15: "I am the vine, you are the branches. whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing" (John 15.5).
In the Prologue of the Rule, in verse four, Benedict writes, "First, when you set out to do some good work, beg him with most insistent prayer to bring it to completion" (RB Prol:4).
In chapter 49, Benedict wants us to do something beyond the normal requirements: "we should increase the regular measure of our service. In that way, each one, of his own free will with the joy of the Holy Spirit, can offer something that is beyond what is imposed on him." Benedict gives the freedom and the task of assessment to each monk knowing that the "negligence of other times" is surely different for each one of us.
However, Benedict does not want us to drift off course. He lists those things that are top of mind: to deny the body some food, some drink, some sleep, some chatter, some joking.
He also lists: "to pray with tears, to reading to compunction of heart."
Everything from Benedict's list comes directly from the Instruments of Good Works. For those of us who teach, how often we have encountered students who are doing "D" work in a course and want to do extra work. The problem is that they can't do the work assigned in the first place.
Finally, Benedict is reluctant to take on spiritual practices, to take on asceticism per se. He does not want the spiritual work in the monastery to become egocentric, just another manifestation of our egos.
Note well that the first instrument of good works is the great commandment of love and these two commandments of love are the measure of all asceticism.
After living monastic life for many years, it is quite understandable that we can lose our fervor. We come to know just how hard substantial change really is at times. Benedict is speaking about staying attentive to this need for change. Most of us can applaud this as an idea, a great concept.
We know that people who are successful at marriage, are so because they keep on working at it. Amidst a whole lot of failures, they simply keep trying. They set priorities carefully so that their relationship is primary. We can fail to realize that people who want to create space for God in their lives need to work on it every day.
Moderation in all things
In the opening line of chapter 49 Benedict reflects once again his commitment to moderation. We see this virtue in other places: Chapter 20 on prayer: "In community prayer should be very brief." Chapter 39 on the quantity of food — in the allowance of two cooked dishes Chapter 40 on the quantity of drink — a hemina of wine a day and if none at all is available, let there be no grumbling.
In his structure of the divine office Benedict does not adopt the long office from the Rule of the Master, but deliberately moderates the number of psalms in the morning.
Benedict is aware of the desert tradition of spiritual one-upmanship and will have nothing to do with it. Hence, the closing of chapter 49, that no Lenten practice should be undertaken without the approval of the abbot.
This is not an issue of control, but a matter of spiritual prudence. Benedict knows how easy it is for the ego to hijack our spiritual discipline.
Silence as self-emptying
Benedict lives in a time before the discovery of electricity and the internal combustion engine and the constant array of sounds that these emit. TV, radio, fans and blowers, computers, printers, and the list goes on. I do not mean to bash these technologies -- they are part of contemporary life. But we do have to be that much more intentional about silence if we are to have it in our lives.
I hope that if someone asks us, "What contribution do you as Benedictine monks make to the world?" that we can say with confidence, we are comfortable with silence. In the house of God, there are times and places for silence.
But if our analysis of silence stops here, it would be superficial indeed. For it is not only external silence we desire, but that deep internal silence where we can be aware of the voice and presence of God.
We know that stuff that goes through our heads and hearts during the one-minute pauses in church:
• the task we have procrastinated or simply forgot
• the throw-away comment by a confrere that somehow hit a vulnerable spot — suddenly we are aware of the wound.
• the unresolved anger we feel toward someone, anger that blocks all peace of mind and heart.
• tomorrow's or today's work.
• boredom — God, how long will this go on ....
The discipline of silence will help us to not internalize any of it — to take those things as nods to our subconscious but to let go of judgments. "I only have to be one place in the universe, and that is right here." Or if we are nervous or afraid, silence will help us turn it into an expression of faith: "Lord, you are a shield in front of me, and strength behind me."
One powerful way to create a space for God is to practice silence.
Letting go of things as self-emptying
We live in a culture in which people accumulate things. Benedict is very clear in his Rule that we are to resist this tendency to accumulate things. Chapters 33 and 34 are complementary in their approach, the first insisting on dispossession, the latter focusing on distribution according to need.
In our current situation, it is easy to have things that clutter our life and take time and energy from our spiritual work.
Lent can be a time when we empty our lives of unnecessary possessions. It means cultivating the habit of giving things away, meeting the real needs of others, such that a greater simplicity results.
Simplicity of life is life unencumbered, life free of things we own so that they do not own us. When we cultivate a sense of 'enoughness,' when we learn to enjoy things for their own sake, when we learn that our deepest joy will not depend on some consumer good, we will experience a fundamental liberation. Lent is a good time to deal with any pack-rat tendencies that operate in my life.
In our current fiscal situation, we are having to review all dimensions of our budget. This coming year is again going to be a very tight year. Each of us will be making a cut in his personal budget. I know that this will cause some real pain, but the need is real.
Obedience as self-emptying
The great hymn of Philippians in chapter two emphasizes the obedience of Christ, his obedience to the human condition, to the proclamation of the Reign of God, to the path that lead to death on a cross.
Our obedience follows in this pattern. It is obedience of faith in Christ and the Gospel. It is obedience to the community and our way of life together. It is an obedience to the horarium and the holy commitment we have made to a monastic way of life.
Sometimes it is an obedience when we realize that we are giving of ourselves in a fundamental way to the life of the community, that we are pouring out ourselves and being changed in the process, that we are being taken where we would rather not go.
Hearing the word of God and putting it into practice is surely this kind of obedience, that will require letting go of our ego's demands.
All too often our daily lives are not governed by our deep commitments, but by our habits. As that old saying goes, " choose your ruts carefully, you're going to be in them for a long time!" Lent is a time to evaluate the path we are on, and to choose a path that is consistent with our promises.
What we have grown used to, what is convenient for us, what fits us, regardless of whether it is in our best interest or in the best interest of the community, this is what can drive our day to day lives. Habits that do not help us live the great commandments of love are ultimately destructive to our desire for God.
Benedict's recommendation of joy in Lent
It is the conviction of a number of scholars such as Fathers Terrence Kardong OSB and Kurt Belsole OSB that Benedict's recommendation of joy in Lent, is an original contribution to Western monastic literature.
Benedict writes in verses six and seven: "In that way each one, of his own free will with the joy of the Holy Spirit, can offer God something beyond what is imposed on him. ... and let him await Holy Easter with the joy of spiritual desire."
One does not find these ideas in either the Rule of the Master, in Basil, or any number of other monastic rules.1 As Fr. Terrence notes, traditional Catholic piety reserves joy for the Easter season. Benedict does not accept this view and he does so for theological reasons.
The joy Benedict describes depends on the work of the Holy Spirit. We are preparing a space for the work of the Holy Spirit who is present in each one of us as a consequence of our baptism.
We are joyful because we already experience what we wait for.
Abbot John Klassen, OSB
Ash Wednesday Conference March 5, 2003
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