The abbot should avoid all favoritism in the monastery. He is not to love one more than another unless he finds someone better in good actions and obedience. A man born free is not to be given higher rank than a slave who becomes a monk, except for some other good reason. But the abbot is free, if he sees fit, to change anyone's rank as justice demands. Ordinarily, everyone is to keep to his regular place, because whether slave or free, we are all one in Christ (Gal 3:28; Eph 6:8) and share alike in bearing arms in the service of the one Lord, for God shows no partiality among persons (Rom 2:11). Only in this are we distinguished in his sight: if we are found better than others in good works and in humility. Therefore, the abbot is to show equal love to everyone and apply the same discipline to all according to their merits.

In his teaching, the abbot should always observe the Apostle's recommendation, in which he says: Use argument, appeal, reproof (2 Tim 4:2). This means that he must vary with circumstances, threatening and coaxing by turns, stem as a taskmaster, devoted and tender as only a father can be. With the undisciplined and restless, he will use firm argument; with the obedient and docile and patient, he will appeal for greater virtue; but as for the negligent and disdainful, we charge him to use reproof and rebuke. He should not gloss over the sins of those who err, but cut them out while he can, as soon as they begin to sprout, remembering the fate of Eli, priest of Shiloh (I Sam 2:11-4:18). For upright and perceptive men, his first and second warnings should be verbal; but those who are evil or stubborn, arrogant or disobedient, he can curb only by blows or some other physical punishment at the first offense. It is written, The fool cannot be corrected with words (Prov 29:19); 29and again, Strike your son with a rod and you will free his soul from death (Prov 23:14).

Comment

From Benet Tvedten's A Share in the Kingdom:

I'm certain St. Benedict was an abbot who was loved.

He was an abbot who showed "equal love to everyone." Some monks, he says, may be more lovable because of their ideal behavior, but even so, "the abbot should avoid all favoritism in the monastery." Favoritism in all families causes many serious problems. "Therefore, the abbot is to show equal love to everyone and apply the same discipline to all according to their merits." This is good advice for all parents.

The role of father in the community is only one of several roles that St. Benedict expects the abbot to perform. The abbot is also judge, master, servant, shepherd, steward, teacher, and wise physician. In all these functions, the abbot is encouraged to be Christ-like, "to hold the place of Christ in the monastery."

The abbot will be judged not only by what he has taught but by how well the monks have responded to his teaching. "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." Near the end of this chapter, St. Benedict again reminds the abbot of the accounting he must give on judgment day. Fortunately for the abbot, St. Benedict assures him of an acquittal if it has been proved that the monk paid no attention to him. St. Benedict knows that the father of a monastery can accomplish only so much. Although the abbot is responsible for his monks and must give an account of their behavior, he will not be condemned "if he has faithfully shepherded a restive and disobedient flock, always striving to cure their unhealthy ways." Sometimes parents blame themselves for the way their children turn out. St. Benedict says, don't do that. If you have really tried, you can't be blamed.

Chapter 2, while addressing the qualities an abbot should have, also says something about the kinds of monks who live under the Rule. True enough, there are "obedient and docile and patient" monks. There are "upright and perceptive men." But there are monks who are "restive and disobedient," "negligent and disdainful," and "arrogant." The abbot "must know what a difficult and demanding burden he has undertaken: directing souls and serving a variety of temperaments, coaxing, reproving and encouraging them as appropriate. He must so accommodate and adapt himself to each one's character and intelligence . . . "

One of my favorite abbots is St. Aelred of Rievaulx, a twelfth-century English Cistercian who embodies what St. Benedict teaches in chapter 2 of the Rule. St. Aelred had this prayer for his community: "May they, Lord, thanks to your Spirit's influence, live at peace, each and all, and with me; may they be well-behaved, kindly disposed; may they obey, help and bear with one another."

St. Aelred spoke and wrote about friendship. As novice master and later as abbot, he was known as a friend. His biographer, Walter Daniel, reports that when he was declining in health and was bedridden, twenty or thirty monks could be found at one time in the abbot's cell. "There was nobody to say to them: 'Away with you. Don't touch the abbot's bed." Those who could find room sat on the abbot's bed. Possibly this is the only time in monastic history that monks have dared to sit on an abbot's bed with the abbot in it.

A few years ago a young man came to join our monastery without having done any research on the Benedictines. After being introduced to the abbot, he turned to one of the monks and asked, "What's an abbot?" If anyone intends to live in a Benedictine monastery, it won't take him long to find out what an abbot is.

From Esther de Waal's A Life-Giving Way:

When Benedict comes to write of the "equal love" due to each in any community, I feel that he is speaking out of his personal knowledge of the community life at Monte Cassino. As Jean Le Clerq reminds us, the Italy of his time was a class-ridden and hierarchical society with "categories of people more or less distinct from one another." The only thing that they shared was the economic deprivation of a post-war period. Everyone’s place was determined at birth and delineated for life by external marks, and this was as true of the invading Goths with their own nobility and their inferior classes as it was of the Italians.

This is the context in which we should read the descriptions of life at Monte Cassino in the Dialogues of St. Gregory. We can see from some of the episodes that he recounts just what a motley crowd these first monks were, drawn from differing social backgrounds and racial origins. A wall fell down one day and crushed a young man whose father was a member of the Senate. Another monk who had an accident with a sickle was a simple Goth. One monk was a Roman slave called Exhilaratus whose master used to send Benedict wine. (Was it these occasions of bringing it that led him into the monastery? We shall, of course, never know.) Maurus and Placid on the other hand were the sons of Roman noblemen. Benedict himself was of comparatively low social origins amongst his monks, coming from a minor noble family.

It needs little imagination to picture how, in a small group of men like this, tensions might erupt. One such moment is caught for us in the Dialogues. It took place during an evening meal when a young monk from a higher class happened to be holding the lamp for Benedict. While standing at the table, the spirit of pride began to stir in his heart. " ‘Who is this’ he thought to himself, ‘that I should have to stand here holding the lamp for him while he is eating? Who am I to be serving him?’" Benedict read the thoughts of the young man and to him they were one of the clearest indications during his abbacy of the work of the devil. We are also told of the day on which the Goth dropped his billhook into the lake and could not help trembling when he owned up to Maurus, who, though young, was of noble birth. When Benedict, alerted by Maurus, returned the bill-hook that he had recovered from the water, he said with Roman exactitude but also with affection, "Here you are, carry on working and do not be sad any longer."

People come from all quarters and he turns no one away. The nobleman arrives with his large endowment and stands next to the penniless son of a peasant. There are freeborn patricians and there are serfs; there are illiterates and academics, clerical and lay, all ages. There is room for all on one condition: that they forget their old connections. When they cross the threshold of the monastery, they break with that old hierarchical society. They even leave behind their name, that civil name that can betray their origins. Since some rank and regular place is necessary for the smooth working of community life, they are given a new name and a new rank, determined by the date on which they enter. They address one another with respect and tenderness, "all the courtesy of love," that lovely small phrase that Benedict uses in 53,3. Slave or free, we are all one body in Christ. This is the end of all those labels that differentiate a person on account of birth, background, or education. Benedict not only quotes St. Paul, "whether slave or free, we are all one in Christ" (Gal 3:28; Eph 6:8), he actually makes it the cornerstone of his community. Seeing each single person as the unique son or daughter of a loving father is a sentiment to which I can easily pay lip service and let it stop there. Yet recognizing the worth of each and every individual is fundamental to Benedict’s way of life. If I am to take the Rule seriously, then I am forced to ask myself some honest questions about my attitude toward other people that I would probably prefer to evade.

"Discretion" is a gentle word that describes how the abbot handles the members of his family, which is the subject of verses 22-29. It is the art of being able to distinguish, to choose what is appropriate. The abbot does not over-protect or prolong a state of immaturity. He handles each one according to his true self. He recognizes in each person, in any particular situation, that there is a level at which they will work best. So one is to be humored, another restrained; one to be treated tenderly, another sternly. There comes a time when it is right to reprove and rebuke. The art of loving someone as they need to be loved does not ask us to turn a blind eye. But when and why? Benedict is showing me here the need for discernment in choosing the point at which I should intervene, and I think that once again it is the disposition of the heart, the true motives, that must dictate that. If my real purpose, even if it is a hidden agenda (even if I scarcely like to admit it to myself), is to improve or to control for my own ends, then that is wrong. What assurance there is in the way in which the abbot handles people, showing his concern to empower and to enhance them, to nurture them in a way that will promote growth. This is a journey that all must make on their own two feet. It is learning of discipline and inner asceticism under a master that has much in common with the Zen master. Here is a guide who has traveled the road on which the disciple embarks and is now available to point that way to each member in his own. For this to be possible, as Kardong reminds us, "The leader must be secure in his own self-image, knowing that he is dear to God and to others." We are brought back all the time to the figure of Christ. We are to see the abbot (but this is equally true of each of us in any role of authority) at work as a true Christ-agent who works tirelessly to promote the Christ-life of his sons and daughters.

Response