To be worthy of the task of governing a monastery, the abbot must always remember what his title signifies and act as a superior should. He is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery, since he is addressed by a title of Christ, as the Apostle indicates: You have received the spirit of adoption of sons by which we exclaim, abba, father (Rom 8:15). Therefore, the abbot must never teach or decree or command anything that would deviate from the Lord's instructions. On the contrary, everything he teaches and commands should, like the leaven of divine justice, permeate the minds of his disciples. Let the abbot always remember that at the fearful judgment of God, not only his teaching but also his disciples' obedience will come under scrutiny. The abbot must, therefore, be aware that the shepherd will bear the blame wherever the father of the household finds that the sheep have yielded no profit. Still, if he has faithfully shepherded a restive and disobedient flock, always striving to cure their unhealthy ways, it will be otherwise: the shepherd will be acquitted at the Lord's judgment. Then, like the Prophet, he may say to the Lord: I have not hidden your justice in my heart; I have proclaimed your truth and your salvation (Ps 39:11), but they spurned and rejected me (Isa 1:2; Ezek 20:27). "Then at last the sheep that have rebelled against his care will be punished by the overwhelming power of death.

"Furthermore, anyone who receives the name of abbot is to lead his disciples by a twofold teaching: he must point out to them all that is good and holy more by example than by words, proposing the commandments of the Lord to receptive disciples with words, but demonstrating God's instructions to the stubborn and the dull by a living example. Again, if he teaches his disciples that something is not to be done, then neither must he do it, lest after preaching to others, he himself be found reprobate (I Cor 9:27) and God some day call to him in his sin: How is it that you repeat my just commands and mouth my covenant when you hate discipline and toss my words behind you (Ps 49:16-17)?

Comment

The old translation of the title of this chapter used to be "What kind of man the abbot ought to be." That came in very useful if we had just had a difficult encounter and had the opportunity to read this chapter at the evening meal. We could create interesting readings by giving special emphases to different words in the phrase.

From Columba Cary-Elwes' Work & Prayer: The Rule of St. Benedict for Lay People:

This chapter applies to anyone in authority over others, not least to parents and teachers.

The abbot holds the place of Christ; he is the instrument of Christ, who acts through him. So too in the world, the father and mother, the nurse and teacher, should act with all the simplicity and wisdom, the firmness and gentleness of Christ. Christ was servant to his disciples, but also teacher. When they strayed from truth or from love, he said so or acted in a contrary way. He washed their dirty feet, he spoke like a whip to Peter, but also looked towards him in the palace yard with boundless forgiveness.

From Norvene Vest's Preferring Christ:

How does this passage touch my life today? I realize that only recently have I begun to be aware of questions for which I am not yet capable of receiving the answers. What I must first do, is to allow a capacity to be created inside me which will permit me to discover what I seek. This is humbling and frustrating. Especially as I come to see myself as a competent adult, sometimes I resent having to slow down, turn off all my analytical apparatus and evaluation criteria, and simply submit myself to come to a new thing as a babe -- innocent, unknowing, receiving it at first all in its own terms, until I belong enough to it and it to me for creative dialogue to begin. In a sense, this is the process any artist goes through in learning a craft. It is, I think, the continuing process of becoming part of Christ.

What obligation do we owe to our God? To speak forth God’s truth when we know it; to listen for God’s truth when we do not. (And to know the difference!) Obedience is one of three key vows to the Benedictine way of life, and Benedict’s concept of obedience is rooted in the ancient notion of listening. Benedict here draws this from his Old Testament sources: both Isaiah and Ezekiel are told to speak forth the Word, for the people have refused to listen; they are disobedient and rebellious.

The whole point of the Benedictine life is to train the heart to listen for the Word that matters, and when it is heard, to allow it to take creative root in one’s heart and then burst forth "giving growth to provide seed for the sower and bread for the eating" (Isa. 55:10). Thus at various cyclical points in one’s life, one is either listening, nurturing or proclaiming. Each of these tasks is a kind of stewardship for God.

In order for God’s whole work to be done, each must perform his or her part faithfully and at the right time, the abbot no less than the novice. No one is responsible for what the other refuses to do, but each is responsible not only to do his or her own part, but also mightily to encourage the others to do theirs. Yet finally it is God’s work and God’s ultimate judgment under which all rest.

It is often said that the Benedictine abbot is the paterfamilias, the head of the family with ultimate power and authority. However, that Roman word/concept appears only once in the Rule: here, where it refers explicitly to God, to whom the abbot is accountable. Rather, the abbot is a father primarily in the sense of one who has nurtured the seed of God’s Word in himself and now must proclaim it, thus mysteriously begetting it in his spiritual sons and daughters.

Often do I wonder when to speak and when to listen. The analytical part of my head wants precise rules to tell me when I am at which stage. But Benedict’s helpfulness to me is to point out that relationships are always better than - or perhaps essential supplements to - rules. To be faithful to the growing life of the Spirit in me, I do very much better when I entrust myself to a guide, who has traveled at least part of the path before me. And to be faithful to Godself, I do very much better when I continue to listen for God’s own living Word, than when I think I have heard all that is necessary and stop listening/relating.

How to discern? First, I wonder when to speak and when to listen? If the answer to that is, find a guide, the next question is how to find a guide? And how to relate to a guide, once such a person is found. All this takes discernment. Again, I ask for rules, and all I get is relationship! Relationship is much harder work, and often seems very ambiguous. Perhaps the answer lies in verses 2-4 above, wherein the abbot is told to belong to Christ, and let Christ live in him. The first step is to soak myself in the gifts of God: scripture, Eucharist, tradition and human guides. I am to train my heart to listen for the Word, and to receive it gladly. Then, as Christ comes more fully to dwell in me, my questions will begin to sort themselves out more readily. This is a school Benedict is guiding. And how much I need to be a student!

The Lord’s commandments, those lessons about the good and the holy which come to us in the Christian tradition, these must be lived. They are empty words, unless one takes them in and allows them to form one’s heart, mind, spirit, and behavior.

In ancient cultures, the main task of the parents was understood to be teaching children how to live. The orphan was not only bereft because he or she had no land to inherit, and no skills to be learned in apprenticeship, but essentially because he or she had no one to pass along wisdom: how really to live. The most important gift of parents was to communicate a sense of values, their convictions about life and how it was to be practiced. This inner formation is truly a gift of life, in which every person needs the help of others.

The Benedictine abbot carries parenthood in this sense. He is so to have received what he has been taught, that he is able to pass it along through his very presence. The essence of the Christian life, represented in these passages of Scripture, is that it is not enough simply to hear the word: one must allow it to enter deeply into one’s soul, shaping it and pouring forth fruitful response. The abbot cannot teach the Lord’s commandments, unless he himself has been so formed and is so living. The abbot himself must be obedient to the Word, or he has nothing to teach.

A modern author puts it like this: "So few understand; because where they know, they do not obey ... If Christ’s words seem true, obey them with your whole strength and might. This is the way of life."

I find I am getting increasingly impatient with my urge to go on and on reading more "spiritual books’. It is true there are many good ones; it is also true that fundamentally they all say the same thing, and it can be said in very few words indeed. What I am trying to teach myself is that knowledge is not worth anything until it begins to become lived knowledge.

And so I long -- with all my heart -- simply to be true to Christ, true to the one Christ calls me to be. And I sense this calls me to less rather than more. This calls me to simplicity, gentleness, prayer, silence.

Oh, I know I will always fall short. And I know that very few will see what I am doing. And I know that the nearer to Christ I am, the more appalled I shall be at my lack of charity. Even so, I long to be more drawn into the mind of Christ, and I find myself more and more allowing this longing to be my prayer.

Response