Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB
 
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    "As the Prophet saith: "Seven times a day I have given praise to Thee" (Ps 118[119]:164), this sacred sevenfold number will be fulfilled by us in this wise if we perform the duties of our service at the time of Lauds, Prime, Tierce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Complin; because it was of these day hours that he hath said: "Seven times a day I have given praise to Thee" (Ps 118[119]:164). For the same Prophet saith of the night watches: "At midnight I arose to confess to Thee" (Ps 118[119]:62). At these times, therefore, let us offer praise to our Creator "for the judgments of His justice;" namely, at Lauds, Prime, Tierce, Sext, None, Vespers, and Complin; and let us rise at night to praise Him (cf Ps 118[119]:164, 62)." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 16.

    Have you ever gone swimming in a river? I have and its quite an experience. During high school my youth group went white water canoeing in many of the rivers of Wisconsin. And of course being in a canoe also meant being in the water. There were times when the canoe tipped over and we ended up in the drink. There were other times, when the water level was very low, when I would have to jump out of the canoe into the water and push the canoe, carrying my girl friend through the worst parts of rapids. Naturally there were other times when the whole group jumped into the water for the very joy of it.

    There's something about swimming in a river that's different than swimming in a lake or pool. The difference is the current. At times the current may be quite sluggish. You can take your time drifting over the waters, jump in and swim, or dig in your paddle to push your way ahead. There are other times, such as one I remember when I think about canoeing over a small waterfall, when the exhilaration of the moment sends your spirit soaring. And there are times when you must frantically fight your way past the rocks of the rapids and/or end up thrown into the water.

    When I came to St. Benedict's Abbey, I experienced monastic prayer for the first time. For thousands of years women and men have gathered in their oratories (that means chapel for most of the rest of us). At the same times every day they have prayed to God and raised their voices in song to praise their Creator. The monastic use of the Psalms extends this prayer back through our connection to Judaism to connect with all those who followed God before the time when our Lord walked the earth.  When our bodies have returned to dust and our souls to God, monastics will still be praying the same prayers we pray now at the same times we now pray.

    To me, this prayer is a river. The current of  voices raised in prayer started long before my parents parents parents walked the earth. And it will extend far, far into the future. When I join in praying the daily office of prayer, whether I am at the abbey or at home, I find myself entering that river. If I let myself feel it, I sense a joining into a rhythm that really is not connected to time. It flows from creation to our reunion with our Creator.

    There are times in this river of prayer where I feel soul leaping toward God in delight. At other times I plod and try to push myself forward through times that are stagnant. Or perhaps I simply rest in the quiet and enjoy my time with God. In bad times, in prayer I feel God pushing me ahead and sheltering me from the rocks in my life. Of course there are also times when I feel my life has tipped over and I reach out to my Savior for help.

    Today, many who are seeking a way for their Spirit, are looking for something timeless; something that has been before them and will be after them; something both awesome in power and delicate in touch. If that someone is you, I suggest you explore the tradition of praying  the hours of prayer. You can try it on your own, but to really experience it I suggest you check out a nearby Benedictine convent or monastery. There you will find the river running from the Creator's heart. May you be blessed in the wonder and delight of it's waters.
 
 
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"Therefore, he who has taken the name of Abbot is obliged to govern his disciples by a twofold manner of preaching; that is, he should show forth all that is good and holy by his deeds rather than by his words, so that he may declare the commands of the Lord to his docile subjects by words; but to the hard of heart, however, and to the less intelligent, let him demonstrate the divine precepts by his deeds. And let him show by his own actions that those things ought not to be done which he has taught his disciples to be against the law of God, lest, while preaching to others, he himself should be rejected, and God should say to him in reproach for his sin: "Why dost thou declare My statutes and have My covenant in thy mouth, thou that hatest discipline and hast cast My words behind thee?" And again, "Why dost thou see the speck in thy brother's eye, and yet dost not consider the beam in thy own eye?" - Rule of Saint Benedict, Chapter 2.

    Those of us in the world might not think this section of the rule applies to us. But when you think about it, the vast majority of us have authority and responsibility that is very similar to an Abbot's in some portion of our life. Pastors serve in ways like this role in their congregations. Parents are the abbot's of their children, at least when the children are young. Those in the work place frequently have authority over other workers.

    No matter the part of our life where we serve as abbots, we are watched. All parents know that their children are watching them constantly. They'll notice any inconsistency between what we say and what we do. When they find it, and they will find it, they pounce on it. 

    It is the same way with pastors in their congregations. How many of us preach and act in the same way for every moment of our lives? And for all Christians, those in the pre-Christian world are always measuring us against the teachings of Jesus. When we stray from those teachings they rightly call us hypocrites. Unfortunately they also use our actions as an excuse to exclude the Way from their spiritual search.

    Most of us are inconsistent people. But despite our inconsistencies I think we can attempt to follow Benedict's teachings. There's a story told by Herbert Prochnow that illustrates what I mean.

    "A stranger came walking along the dusty road, opened the gate, walked up the path to the door of the farmhouse and knocked. The farmer’s wife answered the door. She expected  to see a neighborhood friend, but it was a stranger standing there.

    He asked, 'Does God live here?’ The woman was perplexed and dumbfounded. She  didn’t answer. Again the stranger asked, 'Does God live here?' But the woman was so confused she again  couldn’t answer. For a third time  the man asked, 'Does God live here?’ And again,  there was no answer, Instead the woman  slammed the door, and ran out of the back door. The man shook his head, turned  and walked away.

    After he was gone, the woman ran into the barn, where her husband was working, and excitedly told him of the strange visitor. He blustered and floundered for words until he finally said, 'Well, didn’t you tell him we belong to church?’ 'No,’ answered the woman,'that wasn’t what he asked.’"

    Benedict asks those in the position of abbot to live in a way that shows to others that Jesus lives in us; a way that demonstrates that God does live here. Can we be perfect at this? No, we aren't Jesus. But we can measure our actions by the way Jesus acted, and when we slip, we can turn around and begin again to live like God does indeed live in us.
 
 
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    "It is written, 'Distribution was made to everyone according as he had need' (Acts 4:35). We do not say by this that respect should be had for persons (God forbid), but regard for infirmities. Let him who hath need of less thank God and not give way to sadness, but let him who hath need of more, humble himself for his infirmity, and not be elated for the indulgence shown him; and thus all the members will be at peace.

    Above all, let not the evil of grumbling appear in the least word or sign for any reason whatever. If anyone be found guilty herein, let him be placed under very severe discipline." -Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 34

    Grumbling! Benedict did not like grumbling at all! He didn't like it for very good reasons. In his time abbeys were islands of safety and learning in a sea of danger and ignorance. He knew nothing could destroy a small community so quickly, as rumors and grumbling amongst its members.   Benedict's admonition should be heeded as much today as it has been over the course of monasticism.
   We live in a culture of greed and entitlement. The one who dies with the most toys is declared the winner. Our television shows are very frequently about people coming out on top.  Our political  system too often rewards those who have over those who have much rather than help those who have little. Even the myths of the United States emphasize someone who rises to achieve riches. Nowhere  do we have a story of someone who is content to just have enough.

    We know what happens too frequently when we do not achieve our need for immediate gratification. That's right, we grumble and complain.  And the worst offenders are found in the midst of congregations. "I can't have my own way! Than I'm going to leave and take my money with me!" Of course there are also the parking lot grumblers. You know the ones! After every meeting you can find them undoing whatever has been accomplished by grumbling out in the church's parking lot.

    Before you think I'm pointing the fingers at congregants, I think we ministers, myself included, can be some of the worst offenders. If you want to hear grumbling at its finest, check out any local lectionary study group. But be warned, come prepared to hear an ear full of complaints.

    Think of what a difference it could be if grumbling was absent from our midst. What could we accomplish with the energy we spend complaining about our sisters and brothers? Every time I want to complain about someone in a congregation I think about the log in my own eye. Do I do a great job about that? Well, no. My answer to that comes under the heading of constant conversion. My conversion to Christ's path will not be finished until the day of my death. I am constantly in the state of turning around.

    As for having enough, why don't we celebrate it instead of complaining about it? Use enough for ourselves. That leaves more for others. Benedict's idea of giving to everyone according to their need could have a great impact on our debate on health care! It could also have a great impact on congregational budgeting. Do we really need to replace the Sanctuary carpet? Or should we use the money to support someone who is out of work?

    Bob Perkins expressed this idea best in a story he told:  

    "Recently I overheard a father and daughter at the airport in their last moments together.  They had announced her departure and, standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, "I love you.  I wish you enough."  She in turn said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than     enough.  Your love is all I ever needed.  I wish you enough, too,  Daddy."

    They kissed and she left.  He walked over toward the window where  I was seated.  Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to      cry.  I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would
be forever?"  "Yes, I have," I replied.  Saying that brought back memories I had  of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me.  Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to  tell him face to face how much he meant to me.  So I knew what
this man experiencing.

    "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodby?" I asked.  "I am old and she lives much too far away.  I have challenges ahead, and the reality is, the next trip back will be for my funeral," he said. "When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, "I wish you
enough."  May I ask what that means?"

    He began to smile.  "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations.  My parents used to say it to everyone."  He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.  "When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory:

    "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
     I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
     I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
     I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear
     much bigger.
     I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
     I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
     I wish enough "Hello's to get you through the final "Goodbye."

    He then began to sob and walked away. "

    My sisters and brothers, I pray we may all be too aware of the logs in our own eyes to grumble. Oh, and by the way, I wish you enough.
 
 
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"Above all things, that the Abbot may not neglect or undervalue the welfare of the souls entrusted to him, let him not have too great a concern about fleeting, earthly, perishable things; but let him always consider that he hath undertaken the government of souls, of which he must give an account. And that he may not perhaps complain of the want of earthly means, let him remember what is written: "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His justice, and all these things shall be added unto you" (Mt 6:33). And again: "There is no want to them that fear Him" (Ps 33[34]:10). And let him know that he who undertaketh the government of souls must prepare himself to give an account for them; and whatever the number of brethren he hath under his charge, let him be sure that on judgment day he will, without doubt, have to give an account to the Lord for all these souls, in addition to that of his own. And thus, whilst he is in constant fear of the Shepherd's future examination about the sheep entrusted to him, and is watchful of his account for others, he is made solicitous also on his own account; and whilst by his admonitions he had administered correction to others, he is freed from his own failings." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 2       

I hope that most of us who are in pastoral ministry came to our place in life to care for Christ's people. But Benedict takes this care a step further. He speaks about caring for souls. He speaks of the Abbot being called to account for those monks who have entrusted their lives, and their souls to his care. I think the same is true for those called to pastoral ministry.

When you think about it, the idea of caring for souls is an awesome responsibility. How much of our time is taken up by administration. And yes, I know, administration is one of the gifts of the Spirit described by Paul. But how does it impact the care of the souls entrusted to our care? How does constant upkeep of a building help care for souls? How does being an expert at find raising care for souls?

Don't get me wrong. I do know those things have an impact on our congregations. Yet they are not the chief impact we should make. I have never forgotten the sermon a friend and mentor preached at my ordination. He described a brass plaque on the pulpit of his home church. On the plaque were the words of scripture, "Sir, we would see Jesus." 'Show them Jesus," my friend instructed me. "Show them Jesus."

In each encounter with our congregants we have the opportunity to show Jesus. We can do this by the things we do; things like the example of our lives; like our own devotion to prayer and scripture; things like the way we treat each person with whom we come in contact; things like the care we have for our own families.

We can of course block Jesus from our congregant's vision. We can do this by actions, such as pastoral abuse in any form or by teaching those for whom are supposed to care, how to hate their sisters and brothers who are in someway different from us. We can also block Jesus by our inaction. We can cut a few corners. We can try to cater to a popular view of scriptures instead of helping those we teach dive into their depths. We can block Jesus in so many ways that it is frightening to think about.

I suppose it is admonitions like this part of Benedict's Rule that have played a large part in my decision to follow his little rule for beginners. Benedict constantly reminds me of how to live like a Christian and, in this case, to care deeply for the souls of those people entrusted to my care.
 
 
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"Place your hope in God alone. If you notice something good in yourself, give credit to God, not to yourself, but be certain that the evil you commit is always your own and yours to acknowledge." - Rule of St. Benedict, Chapter 4.

People often ask how I can be both a Presbyterian and a Benedictine. One of the answers is the remarkable similarity of our teachings. The Presbyterian Church (USA) Book of Confessions . says we are all capable of utter depravity. As a Presbyterian I believe there is nothing we can do that is good enough to justify ourselves with God. Even the love of Christ is a God given gift as we are not capable of it on our own. As a Benedictine I believe in constant conversion; the process of falling from God's path but through God's grace finding a way to return to it once again. This process of falling and getting up again will continue for the rest of my life.     

This Sunday I'm preaching on the story of David and Bathsheba. You know the story. David seduces Bathsheba. Bathsheba gets pregnant. David has her husband murdered. I doubt any of us could call such an action anything but evil. But despite such evil, out of the marriage of David and Bathsheba came their son, Solomon.

Thank you Lord, for the good you do through each of us and your grace which brings us back to your path when we stray.
 
 
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"All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ, for he himself will say: I was a stranger and you welcomed me. Proper honor must be shown to all . . ." - Rule of St. Benedict Chapter 53

This chapter on the reception of guests seems to me to one of key points of Benedictine life. At the time of Benedict such hospitality could have been the difference between life and death. I think it often could be the same for us today. We are in a time of great interest in spirituality. Our own communities can be the home of literally more religions than we can count. The sad part is that Christianity is too often not counted among the spiritual choices in pre-Christians' search. Face it, we have a bad reputation. All too often we have brought it on ourselves. So when a stranger arrives in our midst there is an excellent possibility that they are desperately seeking for something to hold on to in time of crises. And our bad reputation means that we may be their very last place where they will go for help. If they are desperate, and do not receive a welcome we may not only lose the chance to share our faith. We may also send someone off on the path to suicide.

Our lack of welcome can take many forms. I have seen congregations where no one will talk to a visitor. I have seen others who great each person who comes through the door with a stack of offering envelopes and a request to serve on a committee. Sigh.

What happens when a stranger comes to our church? Do we grumble if they sit in our pew? What if they take our parking spot? Or perhaps we try to provide for their comfort in advance by posting signs to areas of the church, hint, the number one complaint is the lack of signs pointing out the restrooms. When someone seems unfamiliar with the service perhaps we could quietly pass them a service book turned to the right page. Maybe we could send someone to their home after worship to drop off a loaf of fresh baked bread, and not do it as an opportunity to get in the door, but simply to say "hello, you are welcome among us."

Several years ago I heard a stunning example of the type of hospitality Benedict described. A couple came to a strange city so one of them could undergo surgery. The day before the operation the dropped in to worship at a church they picked at random. At the church they were warmly welcomed. In the course of a conversation with one member, they mentioned the upcoming surgery. That evening, a member of the church called, told them they were praying for them, and offered to pray with them on the phone. They welcomed the offer. The next morning they arrived at the hospital to find a group from the church waiting for them both to pray again and to offer them any other assistance they might provide. The couple asked how they had known what hospital they would be at. There were many hospitals in the city and they had not mentioned in which hospital the surbery The answer, members of the congregation were waiting at each hospital in the city.

"I was a stranger and you welcomed me." If we can welcome like the congregation in this true story welcomed, we will be greeting our guests as if they were Jesus.
 
 
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"First of all, every time you begin a good work, you must pray to him most earnestly to bring it to perfection." - Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict

Most of us want to do good things. A lot of us even try to do them. But I bet the vast majority of us, including me, forget to begin good works with prayer. When you think about that, it really seems amazing that we forget to pray like we do. Unfortunately I find lack of prayer in many churches. I have even chaired church boards who will debate the very future of their congregations willingly but who will object strenuously at the idea of bringing prayer into their deliberations. Note to members of my current congregation, I am not talking about you.

When I look inside myself, I have to admit I am equally guilty. All of this afternoon I have been working on my sermon for tomorrow. But I did not, until I began writing this blog entry, remember to stop and pray for God's guidance on the words I am writing. But I have stopped writing now to pray for our time of worship.

Being a Benedictine sure does not mean one is perfect. Being a Christian does not mean perfection either. There is only One who is perfect.  From now on I will earnestly endeavor to pray for at the start of any work for God's people. I pray you will too.
 
Good Zeal 07/17/2009
 
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"Thus they (the monks) should anticipate one another in honor (Rom. 12:10);
most patiently endure one another's infirmities,
whether of body or of character;
vie in paying obedience one to another --
no one following what he considers useful for himself,
but rather what benefits another." - St. Benedict's Rule, Chapter 72

Oblates hear about this chapter of the Rule quite frequently at St. Benedict's Abbey. We especially hear it read when a monk takes monastic vows. I always wonder what the universal church would be like if we could put these words into practice? Imagine a church where all the members anticipated each other with the honor Benedict describes.

Most of us think this goal is impossible. Most of us are right. It is impossible. Benedictines are just like anyone else. Among the monks and oblates of the Abbey we find people who rub us the wrong way. Of course there are times when we also get on other's nerves. And when we're irritated, or when we irritate others there are times we become slightly more than irritated. But in the midst of annoyance there is a feeling of holding back.  There is a knowledge of the fact that the one with whom we are angry is one of our brothers or sisters in Christ. So when anger slips out, we calm ourselves, call it back, and make amends.

Doing this is not easy. It is something we all will be practicing until the day we die. Perhaps the wider church can also take up the practice. How about it? That person we are now disagreeing with won't start it by himself or herself. So give it a try. Return anger with love. Will love always be returned to us? Probably not, but that is not the point. The point is to live and act as if the person we disagree with is Jesus.
 
Listen 07/14/2009
 

The very first word in St. Benedict's rule is "Listen."  He tells his readers, "Listen to the master's instructions, and attend to them with the ear 0f your heart." 

I have come to treasure this first word of the rule. It urges me to listen intently to those to whom I minister; to hear what is said and to hear what is left unsaid. Sometimes I think such listening is the most important task of a pastor.   Without it, how can we hope to pray, preach, or serve our congregations?

Benedict's admonition also reminds me to listen to those with whom I disagree. Much of the time it seems our modern debates consists of us shouting at each other. We do not hear what the other has to say. Perhaps we have closed our ears to it. Or perhaps we are in the midst of forming our own answers to what we think is being said.  Listening does not always mean we will agree with each other. But it might mean we can come to respect each other and to know the deep concerns of each other's hearts. If we do this we will find that it becomes very hard to demonize each other or to consider each other a person of evil. And if that happens it might lead to a much more peaceful world.

Next time you sit down with a parishioner, or with someone you disagree, please remember Benedict's first word. "Listen!"