Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB
Sin 10/23/2009
 
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    "Live in fear of judgement day and have a great horror of hell. Yearn for everlasting life with holy desire. Day by day remind yourself that you are going to die. Hour by hour keep careful watch over all you do, aware that God's gaze is upon you, wherever you may be." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 4.

    Wow, what a thought. Who would want to spend every day of their life being afraid of hell and knowing that you may be judged at any instant? Some people look at these words and think monks are those who literally hate themselves; that they are people who withdraw from the world in order to concentrate on their self-hatred. Nothing could be further from the truth. Benedictine communities have often been gifted with their share of grumpy people. But the monks I know are more often brimming with love and life.

    Benedict's words simply remind us that we are broken. Sin is a natural state for us. You might even say that the doctrine of original sin simply points out that sin is not original. It is inherent in human beings. Reformed theology agrees with Benedict's point of view. The Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Confessions reminds us that we are all capable of ultimate depravity. But if that is so, how can we avoid God's condemnation?

    There is an old story, one whose author has escaped me, about a man standing before the gates of heaven. St. Peter tells the man that a point system has been put in place. Each person must have earned one-hundred points in earthly life in order to get into heaven.  "Well," the man said, " I was a minister for fifty years." "That's one point," St. Peter replied. "I went on countless mission trips to the third world," the man said.  "That's very good," said St. Peter. "That's another point." "I sang in the church choir for all my career and even sang on key," the man desperately blurted. "Wonderful," said St. Peter. "That makes three points." In despair the man threw himself down before the gates and shouted, "only by the grace of God will I get in!" "That's one-hundred points," Peter replied.

    In order to fully follow Jesus we must keep in mind our total dependence on God's grace. We do not earn salvation on our own. Only by the grace of God will we ever be allowed to approach the throne. But thanks be to God, that we have been gifted with God's grace.

 
 
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    "It is well known that there are four kinds of monks. The first kind is that of Cenobites, that is, the monastic, who live under a rule and an Abbot.

The second kind is that of Anchorites, or Hermits, that is, of those who, no longer in the first fervor of their conversion, but taught by long monastic practice and the help of many brethren, have already learned to fight against the devil; and going forth from the rank of their brethren well trained for single combat in the desert, they are able, with the help of God, to cope single-handed without the help of others, against the vices of the flesh and evil thoughts." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 1.

    We who live in the United States are immersed in a culture of individualism. Take a look at our cultural heros and myths. Among them you'll find the cowboy, the lone wanderer on the range and the frontiersman, the person pushing the borders of the country outward but who will not tolerate civilization, or the gun fighter, the ruthless, or heroic, man who makes a stand by himself against all odds. The religious life of our country has the same myths. I have lost count of the people who tell me they worship God in nature. "I can be more in touch with God in the woods, than in a church."

    The problem is, the myths are false. They place us in situations where we begin to believe that it is bad to depend on others. But the truth is, we are social animals. We find definition in community. It is no accident that among the more barbaric tortures used in the "war on terror" isolation is king. When we are isolated we begin to lose our way. Eventually we begin to hallucinate and eventually we can become psychotic.

    It was not an accident that Benedict spoke of those who lived in isolation as a means of following Christ as ones who had first lived in community. The common rule I have heard is that a monk would only be allowed to live in isolation after being in community for twenty-five years. Only then could they have developed sufficient stability to withstand isolation.

    When we allow the myth of seeking God by oneself to flourish we are hurting those who believe it. A frequent cliche is that a fire burns brightly on a hearth. But if you take out a single flaming branch, and put it by itself, the fire in it will go out. As is the case for many cliches there is truth in the statement. The Spirit's fire blazes in us more brightly when we blaze with one another.

    Yes, you can encounter God in the forest or in prayer by oneself. But unless that is a reflection of the worship of God in community, it is a pale imitation. If you are seeking God alone, I pray you, begin in the company of others. You can find some of those others at Benedictine abbeys, including St. Benedict's Abbey, http://www.SBAbbey.com.

    May Christ bless your way and the way you travel with others.

 
 
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    "Reading must not be wanting at the table of the brethren when they are eating. Neither let anyone who may chance to take up the book venture to read there; but let him who is to read for the whole week enter upon that office on Sunday. After Mass and Communion let him ask all to pray for him that God may ward off from him the spirit of pride. And let the following verse be said three times by all in the oratory, he beginning it: Domine, labia mea aperies, et os meum annuntiabit laudem tuam (Oh Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise) (Ps 50[51]:17), and thus having received the blessing let him enter upon the reading.

    Let the deepest silence be maintained that no whispering or voice be heard except that of the reader alone. But let the brethren so help each other to what is needed for eating and drinking, that no one need ask for anything. If, however, anything should be wanted, let it be asked for by means of a sign of any kind rather than a sound. And let no one presume to ask any questions there, either about the book or anything else, in order that no cause to speak be given [to the devil] (Eph 4:27; 1 Tm 5:14), unless, perchance, the Superior wisheth to say a few words for edification.

Let the brother who is reader for the week take a little bread and wine before he beginneth to read, on account of Holy Communion, and lest it should be too hard for him to fast so long. Afterward, however, let him take his meal in the kitchen with the weekly servers and the waiters. The brethren, however, will not read or sing in order, but only those who edify their hearers." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 38.

    Our modern culture does not like silence. If you don't believe me, ask your pastor to arrange a time in worship where there is no sound. Then take a look around during that time and watch everyone fidget. Even song lyrics, the ones from The Sound of Silence that kicked off a lot of the changes that have impacted our society have decried a time without noise.

        "Fools said I ,you do not know
        Silence like a cancer grows.
        Hear my words that I might teach you,
        Take my arms that I might reach you.
        But my words like silent raindrops fell,
        And echoed
        In the wells of silence." - Simon and Garfunkel

    In a Benedictine community a very counter culture thing is encouraged - silence. This is most apparent at meals. There is no speaking except the words of the one reading from the words of the Church Fathers or from other readings aiding spiritual growth.  In the silence, in the midst of readings about our relationship with our Creator, interesting things occur. The most interesting to me is the reverence with which people treat each other. Without words, everyone begins to interact with each other in an attitude of complete respect. No word is spoken while the meal is served, condiments are passed, and the remnants are collected. A lot of what seems to be unconscious bowing occurs. Utmost care is offered, both to the word being spoken, and to those hearing it.

    If we approach silence as a means to be open to the leading of God's Spirit, something does grow within us. But it is not something like a cancer. Instead the respect for the holy and for each other seems to blossom. It seems one is never closer to God, and to our brothers and sisters, when we stop letting our words get in the way.

    Would you like to experience this type of silence? Check out http://www.SBAbbey.com, or Google for a near by Benedictine abbey. The Holy One is there waiting for you in the silence