(20) Authority

"Who are our teachers in God? Who are the authorities, rather than
the powers, in our lives?"
[Eric Dean, SAINT BENEDICT FOR THE LAITY, the Liturgical Press,
1989, p. 18.]

Comment: At the time of this book's publication Eric Dean served
as a Presbyterian minister as well as a professor of Humanities.
He also was an ecumenical oblate at a Benedictine abbey. As for
the question he posed above, well it's one of those critical questions
which one ponders over religion or spirituality.

It's a question that has taken me years and years to work through.
"Authority" sometimes has been so tainted that it seems nearly
impossible to accept these days. It's not just all the misdoings of
power-mongers in Religion, but also amongst the same kind of
crowd in Politics/Government and in the Commercial sector. It's
all so sad, really, to see the downfall of honorable Authority.

This situation leaves lots of people in a hard place, especially
when it comes to our concept(s) of God. Just observation, but
many folk apparently need to be told about God by some recognized
authority. If nothing else, it's like starting a car that hopefully will
move you along. But lest we forget, the driver of the car is *you.*

So is it ultimately that you are the authority? Up-to-a-point, perhaps.
In the great religions, the individual is expected to mature and start
thinking more deeply so as to grow into the ideal(s) of their religion.
For some this does happen, but it surely is different for each and
every one who works to ever higher plateaux of be-ing.

I used to scratch my head, wondering why so many of us remain
at kindergarten levels when it comes to their religious study, while
at the same time so many of us study carefully the many other
disciplines we employ to become skilled, which we need to make
a living. It would seem that our Faith Systems would encourage a
more depth approach when it comes to religious thought.

Again, while studying Religion I moved into the realm of Spirituality.
That's another kettle of fish, I believe. For me Religion represents a
collective, culturally transmitted Faith System. It's usually inherited,
but it can only grow and develop if we continually inject more depth
and expanse into it. Religion's authorities, I believe, need more and
more to become wise teachers who will help all of us rise to ever
higher levels in faith development and ensuing positive, concrete
action.

On the other hand, there's personal experience when it comes to
God in our lives. For me, that's Spirituality. And here we need
reach a point where we recognize personally, within our souls, that
there *really* is Some One present that is Beyond us! And if we
finally come to recognize this special Presence, it is this that is our
Ultimate Authority.

I tend to think of this Ultimate Authority as the Holy Spirit. The
challenge, of course, is discerning the message(s) we receive
from the Spirit. Some of have become quite adept at this, hence
we have saints, mystics, spiritual masters who provide a quite
different kind of authority than those wearing the robes of Religion.

Still this is too simplistic. Sometimes a great Spiritual Authority
can be wearing those religious robes, but more than often they
have to be careful--because they are in the service of an institutional
environment. They have to walk a fine line, sometimes needed just
to survive!

(19) If only, If only

"...is there a sense in which we speak of Benedict and his rule as
offering an orientation for Europe's future...does the Holy Rule still
provide a beacon for common life...If there is a civilisation to be
saved, what are the dimensions of the Rule that point us towards
the essentials that have to be preserved and nourished?

"I shall outline three aspects of the Rule which are of cardinal
importance...(i) what the Rule has to say about the use and the
meaning of time, (ii) what the Rule has to say about obedience,
and (iii) what the Rule has to say about participation."

"[Time]...Benedict describes a carefully structured day, a rhythm
incorporating labour, study and prayer...labour is not everything;
the monastery is an environment in which human beings grow
mentally and spiritually...where they need time for reflection.

"The self that is brought into the light in study and prayer is a self
that lives in a material world where crises and limitations call for
response...Authenic culture needs rhythms of activity and retrieval,
recovery of the self...Culture has to be more than the round of
producing and being entertained. It must be the context in which
humanity is allowed to grow.

"about Lectio, the goal [Benedict] presumes is that of self-
knowledge, humility and growth in holiness: the dimension of
study in the monastic life is not about developing intellectual skills
for their own sake, but a way of advancing in understanding of
oneself as made in God's image...

"A civilised life structured around the vision of the Rule is one in
which economics is not allowed to set itself up as a set of activities
whose goals and norms have no connection with anything other
than production and exchange.

"The environmental question, with all its current urgency, is not
just one of survival; it is about our capacity to understand the world
in which we live as more than a storehouse of useful raw material
for us. It is about how we learn to see the world that indeed--in
some sense 'belongs to us.'

"[Obedience]...the abbot has to listen and attend with intense
concentration to the specific requirements and gifts of the
individual members of the community. [Obedience also involves]
a sort of obedience to every brother.

"[As for the greater, outside community...the Rule applies in that]
the scope of your involvement in the community's life that defines
your standing, [is] not any external criterion such as wealth or
social status or education, or even chronological area...no-one's
voice in the community is automatically dismissed or minimized.

"Benedictine obedience...is an equally unambiguous refusal of
any sort of competitive struggle for the dominance of one individual
or group...Authority is the negotiating of a variety of gifts in order to
sustain a society in which all are at work for the sake of each other's
flourishing.

"[Participation]...The monastery both demands from each a positive
and distinctive share in sustaining its life...This cannot be a community
in which some live at the expense of others...Participation in the common
life is also assurance that you will not suffer alone or ignored."
[Excerpts from a presentation by Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of
Canterbury, in 2006.]

Comment: "If only, if only!" The world goes on, passing-by that special
wisdom that comes along periodically--whether the wisdom of St.
Benedict or other great voices that have graced this planet. Still some
of us, like Rowan Williams, dare to hope against hope.

(18) God-Territory

"To explore into God is prayer, not in the conventional sense, but in the
sense that theology is a prayer. As we explore the God-territory
prayerfully, we suddenly reach a point where we discover that it gives
itself to us. God and the whole universe are giving themselves
continuously to us."
[Fritjof Capra & David Steindl-Rast, O.S.B. with Thomas Matus,
O.S.B. Cam, BELONGING TO THE UNIVERSE: EXPLORATIONS ON
THE FRONTIERS OF SCIENCE & SPIRITUALITY, Harper, 1991, p. 28.]

Comment: Brother David is a very interesting Benedictine monk.
Back when this book was under discussion, Brother David was
spending some time at the Camaldolese monastery at Big Sur,
California. He was interfacing with the world renown Esalen Institute,
located nearby. At the time the physicist Fritjof Capra was working
there. He and Brother David, as well as Thomas Matus--who is a
Camaldolese contemplative--were engaged in a year-long discussion
about the New Cosmology and the New Theology. Eventually their
discussion was published in book form--and it's a real eye-opener,
which no doubt I'll draw upon many times.

But in this quote, I was struck by the above statement that God
and the universe are constantly giving themselves to us. Well,
sometimes I think that they are "giving" more than we can gulp
down.

Currently I am working into a story that I am writing, that includes a
chapter called "Cosmic Contour." My homework for this involves the
various theoretics spinning around amongst the scientific community,
when it comes to the nature of the universe. It's too, too boggling
and occasionally I think that I might as well give-up writing my story.

Just trying to keep up, I not only read into the new cosmic theories
but I also attend cutting-edge lectures by scientists in our community--
a community of a goodly number of Nobel laureates and innovative
scientific establishments. Yesterday, I heard a famous astronomer
discussing the WMAP satellite observations that are "consistent with a
universe made up of 4% "normal" matter, 22% dark matter, and 74%
dark energy. I walked out of the lecture hall somewhat stupefied. I
just could not process the Mystery of it all.

It's bad enough that when they can't explain something theologically,
the priests refer to God as a "Mystery." But in yesterday's lecture the
astronomer, talking of dark matter and dark energy, said such is still
very much a Mystery.

Taking a walk afterwards, I felt unsettled. It's easy to say "this or that"
about God and the universe; but when one starts doing some serious
investigating, it can lead to a Mystery that one cannot readily explain.
So should we stop being explorers? I doubt that we could--it's not in
our human nature to sit around like a glob and not be interested in
those big questions we are always posing.

I can only attest for myself, but those big questions eventually lead to
new answers--whether about God, whether about the universe. So I
guess that I'll just relax a bit and get back on track with my explorations.
Maybe a prayer, all this. But it certainly takes commitment.

(17) Charism of Service

"Benedictine spirituality refuses to glorify a life of false frugality or
fabricated irritations...[Rather Benedictines] are to 'keep watch of
their own souls' guarding themselves against the pitfalls of any
position: arrogance, disinterest, unkindness, aloofness from the very
people the position is designed to serve."
[Joan Chittister, O.S.B., THE RULE OF BENEDICT: INSIGHTS FOR
THE AGES, Crossroad, 1992, pp. 104-105.]

Comment: Sister Joan is a famous monastic, and a former prioress.
In recent years she has come up and close to the many issues and
problems faced in modern society. And she seems a "natural" when
it comes to incorporating Benedictine wisdom in her discussions.

Interestingly, I had previously wrritten an essay about the Benedictine
Soul that especially leaned more towards one's inner development.
But here--with Sister Joan--we encounter the other side of the coin.
There's a balance when it comes to Benedictine life. There's the
more passive, contemplative life, and there's the quiet active life of
service. And the two should be seamless, if you will.

Most of my Benedictine contacts have been active in religious pursuits,
either as theologians, spiritually-oriented philosophers, and most often
as teachers in their Benedictine schools. Occasionally one finds a
Benedictine monk who has delved into science. (An aside, but once
I heard a retired abbot mention that if he had his life to live over, he
would become a physicist first and then a priest. Having studied
science and systems from a spiritual perspective, I quite understand
where this former abbot was heading. :)

In future, whether in the monasteries, maybe beyond the walls, active
Benedictines will move into even more diverse professions that
represent their charism of service. I know that Benedictine sisters have
begun to more into new territories that reach beyond their particular
religious perspectives. These days many female Benedictines are into
nursing, into hospital administration, into social services, etc.

Perhaps not too far off in time, we will see this active aspect of the
Benedictine Tradition proliferate as more and more non-traditional
monastics begin to relate their spiritual tradition with their naturally
more diverse activities in the communities and societies in which they
live.

And, yes, as Sister Joan mentions, the Benedictine soul need be wary
falling into the pitfall of negatives that detract from their active life.
On the other hand, perhaps a more appropriate approach would be to
not only stress, but *study* more seriously the active part of their life.
The possibilities, the potentialities, lay waiting when it comes to the
Benedictine charism of service.

These days the horizon for service has blown sky-high, including ever
new and fresh territories in which one can lend a hand. So, yes, why
not have a retired Benedictine abbot ponder over what could be--even
in the field of science. He recognized that the New is upon us.

(16) Benedictine Soul

"It occurs to me that rather than be so thrilled that the abbot
chases me around with books in his hand--oh, special me,
favored oblate--I should be humbled. Spending an entire
weekend with oblates, I see the kinds of books they read and
apparently absorb. I am quite the lazy, undisciplined one,
and my poor abbot is just trying to get me to the level of the
rest of my class."
[Carol Bonomo, THE ABBEY UP THE HILL: A YEAR IN THE
LIFE OF A MONASTIC DAY-TRIPPER, Morehouse Publishing,
2002, p. 169.]

Comment: Carol Bonomo is a Benedictine Oblate residing
in Southern California. Her book is a delight. And it provides
a lot of insight about the goings-on in a Benedictine abbey--
and, also, about her own monastic growth under the tutelage
of a retired abbot in his 90s.

Her book makes me think back, about the delightful time I had
studying under a much younger Benedictine abbot. In my case,
I gulped down Benedictine books like mana. Good food for the
soul. However, what we talked about during spiritual direction
was not so much book-learning but rather about becoming
*more* a Benedictine soul.

Book-learning is necessary for anyone wishing to master a
discipline, but with the Benedictines there's so much more that
is needed. It's about honing one's soul in a certain way. We
have the Rule of St. Benedict. We can read it (over and over),
and we can have others tell us what it means, via books, or
by example.

But what I learned from my abbot was mainly via example.
My good abbot lived a Christ Life, which I greatly honored. He
also was a superb listener--and "Listening" is a primary Benedictine
feature. He listened to the pain in my soul. He listened to the
hope in my soul. He even listened to the ambition in my soul.

It's not wrong to have ambition. What is important is the character
of that ambition. Important, too, is how ambition is carried out.
At the time I had my sessions with my abbot, I was extremely
ambitious about become a true-blue, successful Benedictine.

So I crammed in all the book-learning I could about the great
Benedictine Tradition. Tried to lock-step into the Rule, working
to connect strict medieval measures with my more diverse modern
life. Ultimately I over-loaded, nearly burning out. Hence my sense
of failure, my pain, brought me to my abbot.

He slowly taught me how to listen to my soul. This involved prayer,
it involved meditation, contemplating, even psychological under-
standing. He helped me "mine" the depths of my soul. And what I
found was something True and hopeful.

This kind of soul work is monastic work, if you will. Once one has
reflected in this way, then the book-learning can come into play.
All in all, it is about honing soul, ever striving towards becoming a
Benedictine soul.

My good abbot is gone now. God took him in his prime. Me? Each
day I pray my abbot's soul to keep. He was a great Benedictine soul.

(15) Unexpected Humility

" [An] explorer who found spiritual renewal in the Wilderness was
John Muir (1838-1914), founder of the Sierra Club. From the
majestic Yosemite in California, Muir wrote: 'God's love covers all
the earth as the sky covers it, and also fills it in every pore. And this
love has voices heard by all who have ears to hear'...Muir could
best hear the voice of divine love when he climbed the mountains.
For him mountains were as spiritual as they are rocky; he imagined
them to be alive with the divine presence."
[Charles Cummings, O.C.S.O., ECO-SPIRITUALITY: TOWARD A
REVERENT LIFE, Paulist Press, 1991, p. 55.]

Comment: At the time of this publication, Charles Cummings was
a Trappist-Cistercian at the Holy Trinity Abbey in Utah. Interestingly,
I came across his book a short time after visiting Zion National Park
in Utah. I had been profoundly struck by the soaring monoliths,
looking at those high mountains whilst sitting amongst cottonwood
trees overlooking the Virgin River.

I had just come off completing a major thesis about the mystery of
the universe, integrating the "Cosmogenesis" theory of Teilhard
de Chardin with David Bohm's theory of the "Implicate Order." My
work concentrated on the theoretical, but after it was finished I felt
a longing to touch and feel God's Creation close-up, right here at
home on our Earth. Hence began my long series of visits to the
great parklands in the American and Canadian West, as well as
to the lagoons of the Baja.

All this eventually led me to become a docent naturalist in
addition to being a philosopher of science and evolutionary
systems. And over the years I have tried to integrate these
pursuits with the work of the Spirit.

Before reading Fr. Charles book, I had wondered how I might
understand these pursuits of mine in terms of the Benedictine
Tradition. Of course I knew that for centuries the monks had
worked the land, had understood the intricacies of agriculture.
Having visited monasteries, too, I knew the monks had long
been engaged in horticulture. Their beautiful gardens and
landscaping attests to this.

So, years later, I was not surprised to discover that some
Benedictine houses are providing ecological retreats. I haven't
attended any of these retreats, but I imagine they are responsible
approaches towards working into a better understanding of God's
good Creation as reflected by our small, sweet planet.

I do know that surely the Benedictines are *not* discussing
pantheism in these retreats. Rather, from their perspective, they
must be discussing "panentheism." Whereas pantheism identifies
God as the universe, panentheism considers God to be greater
than the universe but includes and interpenetrates the universe!
Yet, this returns us to theory--and I really wanted to get my hands
dirty, so to speak.

As I had put, I wanted to touch and feel God in Creation. I wanted
to be at that point of which Muir speaks--in that he could feel God's
love when he climbed the mountains.

From mountains, up to mountain tops, I have gained an unexpected
humility. One day I found myself standing before the Giant Sequoia,
redwoods that boast being the tallest trees on the planet. They were
also very old. "Majestic" was the only word I could conjure while
gazing at these massive life forms. I felt like a little speck in
comparison. This kind of humility is honorable I believe. It's not
about being a drudge, or worthless, but rather more about an
honest acceptance that there is far more in God's Creation than
just me or even humanity.

Still God has given us eyes, minds, feelings to gaze out on his
Majesty of Creation. It has not been difficult (for me) to sense
God's Presence in its midst. However, there seems a call of not
only humble appreciation but a certain *responsibility* towards
this Earth Garden that God has provided.

As I continue down this path, it will be interesting to reconnoiter
additional Benedictine publications that stress a responsible
ecological outlook which, in turn, links with spirituality.

(14) Living Stones

"St. Peter, lingering over the image of the temple, emphasises
that we are its 'living stones' and that we ought to make ourselves
available for building a spiritual house. However alone you may
be, you have a social role to play, and you cannot opt out of this
without betraying the interests of the community..."
[Anonymous Monk, Alan Neame (trans.), THE HERMITAGE WITHIN:
SPIRITUALITY OF THE DESERT, Paulist Press, 1977, p. 127.]

Comment: Ancient desert monks were not required to attend church
every Sunday, rather perhaps once a month. There's a story about
one such ancient monk showing-up for church, and an official asked
"what are you doing here?" At that time the desert monk had other
duties than church attendence.

The Benedictines came after these desert solitaries, and their's
was a communal existence, with daily mass (after priests became
the dominant members). Their monasteries had a chapel that
served as a church.

In today's world, Benedictines behind the walls still remain
communal and are true to "church," whether Roman Catholic or
Anglican. Benedictine oblates, too, are expected to support their
parish church and also try to attend church at their affiliated
monastery periodically.

As for myself, I've had a hard time with "church." Too much of an
idealist, I suppose. I really did want so much to believe that we are
"living stones," that the Church is the "Body of Christ." Rather, more
than often, I found dissension. Historically we read of the constant
splintering of Church into more and more denominations, created
out of dissension and dissatisfaction. Historically, also, the warts of
the Church are highly prominent, committing questionable acts in
the name of God.

It all became rather sad for me. My high hope for Church seemed so
lost. I felt lost as well. Still I look back at the Benedictines, and I have
to admit that this great monastic Order *presented* Church at its best.
The Benedictines were part of the great prayer-wheel for the Church.
Monks were the great spiritual part of the Church. God was the focus,
and still remains the focus in Benedictine communities. The great
Rule of St. Benedict stresses hospitality--and the Benedictine houses
and their chapels and churches are open, running gently, never
harsh, rarely opinionated. And historically I have never found an
incident when Benedictines ever participated in cruel atrocities
toward others.

In my estimation, the Benedictines genuinely tried to be "living stones"
of God's Temple. But no one is perfect, and probably never will be.
Still, it is the trying that is important. And this effort to be a living stone
can be carried forth beyond the monastery's walls, even outside the
institutional church, on into the many communities of the world, where
there is always such need for spiritual support.

We are now undoubtedly in experimental times when it comes to
how we might renew Church. The "living stones" of the Temple may
ultimately come to understand that the whole of God's Creation *is*
the Real Temple. And come this realization there might come a
New Revelation.

Could be that some Benedictines, within the monastery or outside
the walls, are already in this New Vanguard of Living Stones.