Homily for the Transitus of Saint Benedict 2006
"Once the vice of avarice has possessed a monk's lax and lukewarm mind,
it begins by making him concerned about a very small sum
and sets out for him certain justifiable and, so to speak,
reasonable grounds for holding money back and keeping it for himself.
For he complains that what is supplied in the monastery is inadequate
and can hardly sustain a healthy and robust body.
"What if he were struck with bad health
and there was nothing set aside for curing his illness?
The monastery's allowance is meager
and there is gross neglect of the sick.
If there were nothing of his own with which to regain his bodily health
he would surely die a wretched death" [Institutes VII:vii].
So writes John Cassian in the late fourth or early fifth century.
I don't wish to focus so much on avarice
as on how difficult it is to personally let go of things
in order to become a cenobite.
How does one let go of one's desire to control, to possess
and really to trust the community with one's welfare?
Ultimately, of course,
this surrender is really to God
because the community is under the care and protection of God.
Today's Gospel passage is best understood
in relationship to what immediately precedes it,
Jesus' encounter with the rich young man [Matt 19:16-30].
After hearing Jesus name the commandments,
the rich young man says with such confidence,
and I think it must be naive confidence,
"All of these I have observed — What do I still lack?"
Here he goes back to his initial question:
"Teacher what good must I do to gain eternal life?"
And Jesus responds,
"Go, sell what you have, and give the money to the poor,
and you will have treasure in heaven.
Then come and follow me."
And the young man went away sad,
for he had many possessions.
At which point Jesus remarks,
"It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to enter the reign of God."
When Peter and the disciples hear this,
they are astonished, dumbfounded,
and Peter, as spokesperson asks,
"Lord, we have given up everything, and followed you."
How difficult it is to dispossess our selves,
to trust that our needs will be met by the community?
Communities are, after all, fallible, limited in understanding,
sometimes not seeing the larger implications
of a request that an individual makes.
It seems that large portions of generosity
are required on all sides to make this work.
Even if this does not work perfectly in community,
the alternative is to live like a bunch of sarabaites.
As Benedict characterizes them,
"anything they believe in and choose, they call holy;
anything they dislike, they consider forbidden."
This is not our path —
our path is that of cenobites —
the strong kind of monks.
Why give up everything to follow Christ?
Well — the goal of monastic life is eternal life with God.
That is the overriding goal, the ultimate purpose of our monastic lives together.
It is also the goal of a Christian life,
but as monastics, we pursue that goal in a very specific way.
In the prologue to the Rule, Benedict poses this question:
Is there anyone here who yearns for eternal life?
It seems to me that here We have to be like children in school,
whose hands shoot up when asked a question
and we say as one body,
"I do!"
As the Gospel again suggests,
in response to our single-hearted yes,
God is more generous than we can imagine.
Abbot John Klassen, OSB
March 21, 2006
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