CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
I am to handle all these tools with the help of constant vigilance, by being alert to the presence of God in the workshop of my life at every moment of my day, with the help of obedience
(4,59-61), of silence (4,51-54), and humility (4,48-50). Chapter 4 has therefore introduced me to the importance of what Benedict is to make the subject of the following chapters. He starts by looking at obedience, but all three are closely linked, for hu_-mility is essentially the emptying of my own self-love and selfwill, and obedience is the listening to God that will never be possible without interior silence. We are not to approach these in negative terms as difficult or restrictive demands, for they will all come ''naturally to those who cherish Christ above all'' (2), one of Benedict's marvelous short sayings. Time and again the Rule gives me little phrases, aphorisms, which I hold in my hand like some precious gem or small stone, weighing it, turning it over and over again in my mind, savoring it. So here it is: ''cherish
Christ above all'' (2). Again, my eyes are drawn to the figure of Christ himself, central to the pages of the Rule just as Christ must have been the ever-present reality in Benedict's own life, which is what he would wish for all of us.
We are told in the first verse that this is to be unhesitating obedience. The Latin word is statim, at once, without delay, just abandoning everything, dropping whatever you might be doing— as the disciples put down their nets to follow Christ when he called them. This sense of urgency comes again at intervals throughout the chapter: in verse 4 we are told to act promptly, in verse 7 to put aside our concerns immediately, and in verse 9 to act so quickly that command and action become virtually one. This is a radical demand and it asks for a radical response, as Henri Nouwen was to discover during his seven months at the abbey of the
Genesee: ''We are called to a radical break away from our selves and a total surrender to God. St. Benedict, who is often praised for his moderation and has even been called a humanist, is no less radical when he speaks about humility and obedience.
."'
It is important to read these early verses (1-9) in junction with the third section of this chapter (14-19), otherwise it might suggest a promptness and alacrity to do what one is told to do that would be supine, subservient. Those final verses show us that_obedience comes from the heart, that it is a Joyful, generous response, a joyful running, whole-hearted and not half-hearted. The original meaning of the word ''obedience'' is to listen intently, and to respond, and when I see it in these terms it opens up for me the idea of becoming receptive. Fr. Leonard Vickers thinks that we can be clearer about the nature of obedience if we think of it as "'acceptance.'' When we put ourselves first, when we insist on our own way, we know that we are not accepting our lives as God's gift. So in giving us a list of what he has learned to accept at many different stages in his life, he starts with: "*T must accept my being and life from my Creator as a gift anda 'task, va and concludes: ''Finally, I must accept my own weakness and limitations.' ' Obedience calls for the determination to go on, to say yes, to refuse nothing. Obedience is therefore a matter of growth.
That very first word of the Rule, "Listen, > is one that I must return to time and time again, for only a listening with total openness can bring me spiritual growth.
Benedict's understanding of obedience is essentially scriptural, and it is necessary to keep this in mind if we are to put it into the right perspective. He is basing this teaching on two texts, one from Luke (10 and 15) and the other from John (13). Both involve Christ, but from differing perspectives. Luke 10:16 is about Christian authority: ''He who hears you hears me,'' words spoken by Christ to the seventy-two disciples as he sends them out on their preaching missions to the Palestinian towns. If the abbot is believed to hold the place of Christ in the community (2,2), then the monk can presume that the superior is a reliable mediator of God's will. But John 6:38 is about Christ's own obedience:
''T have come not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me.'' In verse 13 Benedict tells us that we must join Christ in that obedience, that sharing in the passion, and so here our
'understanding of obedience must take us into the paschal mystery. The loneliness in the garden, the anguish, and the cost of
saying ''not as I will but as you will'? show me the lengths to which that obedience goes.
But when Benedict reminds me that it is love that underlies obedience, the love of Christ, it becomes easier to make the connection between obedience and freedom. It is the voice of Christ that is heard in the abbot, in superiors, in one another. How do
I experience this in my own life? I come to discover the will of God through people, teachings, institutions, traditions. Benedict's , spirituality is all about listening and about the totality of listening. It begins with listening to the Word itself, for it is the Word that shapes and judges us. Just as Benedict himself is totally fed, directed, energized by the Scriptures, he expects the same for us.
We are to listen to the Rule since it is through the Rule that the voice of the Gospel is made practical and immediate in daily life.
Next there comes the voice of the community, the father and the brothers, the mother and the sisters. For those of us outside the monastery or the convent, there are equally the demands and insights of those with whom we live, beginning with parents, and then teachers and tutors, employers and managers, spiritual directors and gurus. It is here that we learn mutual listening, mutual giving and receiving. Finally, we are to listen to the world around since we are placed in this world as part of it, and the material is not separated from the spiritual. Can we learn to handle this material world so that God may reach us in it and through it?
It is listening to the voice of God wherever that may be found.
What a total demand this is, how fundamental, how far reaching. If I could be selective, I might do quite well. But Benedict has no time for the easy option. If he is leading me to wholeness, it is impossible unless there is a complete opening up of myself to the voice of God in the many and varied ways in which he is reaching out to me. Every time that I face a choice or make a decision, I find myself in particular circumstances to which I must be obedient. As a writer I can only be creative if I impose on myself certain disciplines and limitations so that ideas are translated into words. Just as being responsive to these demands will shape what I finally produce, my obedience to God's will rather than my own will shape me into what I am created to be.
It is reassuring that Benedict knows that this is not easy.
Iam grateful that in the prologue he spoke of the labor of obedience and told me that the way will be narrow at the start: ''Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that
leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset'' (Prol., 48). Verse 11 and the quotation from St. Matthew's Gospel bring that back to mind. But it remains the cornerstone on which the whole way of life of the Rule is built. At the heart of my original sin lies my propensity to do my own will rather than the will of God, to judge as good whatever attracts me, and to follow my own desires of the moment, giving in to my own whims and appetites (12). Now I am being told to turn away, just as Christ himself turned away, to follow instead the will of God (13). Again we are brought back to the figure of Christ.
This labor is a very real labor of the heart. It is possible only when I listen with the ear of the heart. So obedience, as Benedict is showing me, lies in listening to the voice of God rather than my own voice, laboring, struggling to know what is required of me. This is, as Augustine Roberts tells me, a very delicate operation. It is one that respects my freedom. The one thing that obedience is not is dependence, for dependence is the way in which T avoid. responsibility, it is static, it is an obstacle to psychological growth.
In this final section (from verse 14) Benedict tells me once again that mere outward conformity, appearing to be willing and docile, is simply not good enough. Grumbling is mentioned four times in 'this chapter. I enjoy the Latin word murmurare or murmuratio because of the way in which its sound demonstrates what that incessant noise is like. When Thomas Merton was teaching his novices about /nurmuratio, he gave them the Old English translation, ' 'srouching, griping,'' and told them it was like cramps in the stomach. This is a vivid etymology and describes something that most of us will recognize: that sort of inner cramp, constant complaining, that seizes us and holds us in its grip and will not let us go. Merton went on to liken it to a vice that gets a grip on the soul or to a disease that can cause serious damage. He said that it was vital and essential to root it out. It remains hidden, it goes on in 1 the heart, for it lacks the courage to show itself outWwardly for what it is, a lack of love. Benedict writes about it vigorously and at length, for he knows just how serious a matter it is and how destructive it can be. Interior griping of this sort ruins otherwise valid obedience. God is displeased with it (18) and, knowing the secrets of the heart, looks on it with disfavor. Mere outward compliance will not do. Obedience should come cheerfully, freely, and gladly. It is only when I remind myself that obe-
dience is ob-audiens, listening intently to God rather than listening to my own self, that what Benedict is telling me—even though it may still seem difficult—is not impossible, for it is a response of love to love.