Tags
Joan Chittister, monastery, monastic life, prayer, spiritual life, St. Benedict, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily, work
St. Benedict (c. 480 – c. 547) is credited with bringing monasticism to the West. After more than 1500 years, his influence is still felt around the world in monasteries and over the past half-century it has been growing as well in “monasteries without walls.” This movement is a resurgence of the desire in “ordinary people” for a deeper spiritual life and is characterized by attention practices and balanced living, not only for monastics but for lay people as well.
At the heart of Benedictine life is mindfulness and a spirit of hospitality. It has been described with a simple daily formula of four quadrants: prayer alone and prayer together, work alone and work together. Someone once asked where leisure comes in that description and the answer was that if one divides the circle of the day and writes in all that has taken place, the entire circle should be a leisurely and peaceful walk through the hours.
Many authors have written on this topic – none better than Sister Joan Chittister, OSB, especially in her book, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today. This feast reminds me to return, not only to Sr. Joan’s book but also to the practice of drawing that circle each day, where I can assess the balance of my life’s activities and get back to a mindful way of being. Simple? Yes, but not always easy. Worthwhile? Always…as a lifelong daily practice…Oh, yes!
Today I am privileged to spend the morning in reflection with seven people considering the topic of hope. Self-selected and always seeking to deepen their spiritual lives, these people are all known to me although not to one another. I never know exactly what will transpire at these brief encounters (just 3 hours of prayer, silence and sharing) but I am never disappointed. That is not to say that I do not have a carefully crafted agenda, but once I have prepared, I let go and see where the Spirit will take us. I smile when I think of that truth because it has not always been that way. Needing success eventually gives way to simply being present and trusting the willingness of the participants to hear something of merit and to offer their wisdom to the group.
There are two lines in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that do not necessarily seem connected but upon reflection can be, I think, a way forward in the spiritual life. Paul is preaching to the people of Ephesus about how best to live a good and wise life. (EPH 5:15-20). In the middle of this brief lesson he draws a conclusion, saying: “Therefore, do not continue in ignorance but try to understand the will of the Lord.” I see that as a call to responsibility to throw of any sort of “ho-hum” attitude and wake up to the very best we can be. What that will lead us to, it seems, is a clue hidden at the end of the text where he says, “giving thanks always and for everything.” In other words, it isn’t just the things that we recognize as good or happy that teach us important lessons, but also the difficult moments that can be some of the best lessons if we know how to find the deep meanings therein.
Since our Sophia Center Advisory Board meeting on Tuesday, I have been drawn back several times to thoughts of our future and about the best ways to help people engage in consideration of their spiritual lives. It seems less important these days to dream of large events with nationally known speakers – my fondest hope at our inception. What we have experienced as more useful is the value of deep conversation and building trust in the small groups that find meaning in the exchange of ideas. (Not that I’ve given up hope of major events, of course…) We will continue to seek input for programs and events, of course, and welcome any suggestions.
Every time there is a holiday or some out-of-the-ordinary event, I find myself taking a deep breath at its conclusion and feel as if new vistas are opening to which attention ought to be given. It’s not as radical as it seems – as in “Whew! That’s over! Now what?” – but rather as if there was something holding the calendar back until it was completed and now “regular life” is resuming for awhile. I felt that way this morning as I moved from the sound of Fourth of July fireworks while drifting off to sleep last night to the familiar sounds of birdsong awakening me and bringing the plan for the day into focus.
We have 30 inches of snow on the ground this morning, more than any time since 1961. I am itching to get out and shovel some of it. I made it about 20 feet yesterday afternoon from our door to the edge of the driveway, but that effort was tiny compared to what lies ahead on the driveway itself – and the back deck and the roof…Happily we have a faithful “St. Joseph” who will arrive soon to begin digging us out.
I presume it is intentional on the part of those charged with the choice of liturgical texts to have the first reading today (1 JN 2:18-21) begin with the words, “Children, it is the last hour…” Scholars have said that the author was writing to the Christian community to strengthen them against those (“antichrists”) who were spreading untruths about the Christ and about what faithful disciples believed to be imminent, i.e. the fact that Christ would be returning soon to the benefit of “the anointed ones.” It sounds like a serious moment of choice about belief and how to live it. In a way, we might see an analogy in the situation of Americans today. Clearly we are on the cusp of great – one might even say stunning – changes in our country, and it is becoming clearer that similar scenarios are being played out in other parts of the world as well.
