OBLATE THE VOICE
NEWSLETTER OF THE OBLATES OF SAINT MEINRAD ARCHABBEY
A POINT TO PONDER FROM
The Rule
NEW DIRECTOR’S VISION BRINGS OBLATES CLOSER TO GOD
“Listen, O, my son, to the intructions of the Teacher, and bring near the ear of your heart.”
(Rule of St. Benedict Prologue 1:1)
The Oblate Voice is published three times a year by Saint Meinrad Archabbey.
Editor: Krista Hall
Designer: Camryn Stemle
Oblate Director: Br. Michael Reyes, OSB
Oblate Chaplain: Fr. Joseph Cox, OSB
Content Editor: Diane Frances Walter
Send changes of address and comments to: The Editor, Development Office, Saint Meinrad Archabbey, 200 Hill Dr., St. Meinrad, IN 47577, 812-357-6817, fax 812-357-6325 or email oblates@saintmeinrad.org www.saintmeinrad.org ©2024, Saint Meinrad Archabbey
Br. Michael Reyes, OSB, the new director of Benedictine Oblates at Saint Meinrad Archabbey, says his assignment to work in the Oblate Office six years ago was divine intervention. He was a candidate in 2018, and Fr. Guerric DeBona, OSB, the junior master for the monastery at that time, wanted Br. Michael to explore the different activities available at Saint Meinrad.
“The monks have an eye for you to discover your hidden gifts,” explains Br. Michael. “Fr. Guerric saw that in me. I know for a fact that he placed me there for a reason.”
Br. Michael’s work in the Oblate Office began as a once-a-week assignment, and his involvement grew to giving spiritual talks, helping plan spiritual formation and events, and organizing and designing publications. Those are all hidden gifts he didn’t know he had that he uses daily now.
In April this year, Archabbot Kurt Stasiak, OSB, appointed Br. Michael as the oblate director. The previous director, Janis Dopp, passed away in October 2023.
Br. Michael, a native of Manila, Philippines, professed solemn vows as a monk of Saint Meinrad on January 25, 2023. He is studying fulltime for the priesthood at Saint Meinrad Seminary and School of Theology and is expected to graduate in December this year. He also serves as director of Saint Meinrad Cultural Events and is an organist for the monastery.
Br. Michael’s passion for music led him to study music composition and theory in college. He holds a bachelor’s degree in music from the University of the Philippines and a master’s degree in music composition and theory from
the University of Nevada. In 2019, he achieved a Doctor of Musical Arts degree in music composition and theory from the University of Illinois.
His music career includes delivering academic presentations and music lectures at universities across the U.S. and Europe, showcasing his ability to connect with diverse audiences. His groundbreaking contributions to music, spanning various genres and styles, have garnered multiple international accolades and have been showcased in concerts at renowned venues worldwide. In 2018, he was honored with the prestigious ‘Ani Ng Dangal’ award by the Philippine government, which is given to Filipinos who have achieved the highest recognition in art.
As the oblate director, he will oversee and develop Saint Meinrad’s oblate community and program. He says there is a spiritual element to his role.
“The lives of the oblates can be amplified positively through the Rule of St. Benedict,” says Br. Michael. “I will help to draw the oblates closer to God and help them fulfill the promises they made at their final oblation: stability of heart, fidelity to the monastic way of life, and obedience to the will of God.”
His favorite part of his work with the oblates is building community with them. The oblates and monks share a common desire to live by the principles outlined in the Rule of St. Benedict
“The oblates believe in Saint Meinrad, our direction, our vision as a monastic community for the future. And the oblates help us in attaining that vision,” he says. “Our shared desire strengthens our relationship, and it strengthens our community for the future.”
BR. MICHAEL REYES, OSB
Oblate Director
LEARNING THE LANGUAGE OF BENEDICTINE MONASTICISM
Language: More than Words
How many of us when undertaking the study of a foreign language have found ourselves memorizing dozens of words and phrases, either in long lists or on handy flash cards: te amo, I love you; bonjour, hello; mañana, tomorrow; auf Wiedersehen, goodbye. There is no way around it. To learn a foreign language, we have to do a good deal of memorizing. But, as essential as this is, we soon realize that mastering another language involves so much more than rote memorization.
In addition to memorizing words, phrases, and rules of grammar, we also face the challenge of learning and appropriating a different worldview–one that is unique to a particular language and to the culture out of which the language springs. Understanding another worldview can take a good bit of time, but it is as critical to the art of language-learning as are vocabulary or verb endings, and its rewards are without measure. By making this extra effort, we not only can learn a new language, but can also become a part of it–and it a part of us. Over time, we can begin to think in the new language, dream in the new language, and see the world through the unique lens that a language becomes for those who learn it.
A few examples of different worldviews may help to illustrate this point. Let’s look first at a few simple differences between English and French, and then between English and Spanish.
The English language, with its rather practical and down-to-earth approach
to the world, is rich in vocabulary related to physical and concrete realities. French, on the other hand, is rather poor in such words. For instance, English has many different words to describe phenomena associated with light: shimmer, shine, glisten, gleam, glitter, sparkle, glow, twinkle, flash, to name just a few. French, however, not having as many options, typically uses a phrase with lumiére (light) and a descriptive adjective: a bright light, a soft light, etc.
The opposite is true when it comes to verbs. French, as some have called it, is “the language of the verb.” It has a colorful palette of verbs at its disposal and delights in using them with great care and precision. The English language, by contrast, often gives less attention to its choice of verbs. For example, we English speakers load a lot of work onto the back of the little verb to go: to go across, to go after, to go against, to go along, to go around, to go away, to go into, to go over, to go through, and so on. As you may have guessed, French has a separate, distinct verb–and sometimes more than one verb–for most, if not all, of these to go combinations.
Other types of contrasts may be seen when comparing English and Spanish. For example, we say in English, “I forgot my keys,” taking personal responsibility for the momentary lapse of memory. A person speaking Spanish, however, will more likely say, “My keys up and forgot themselves on me,” assigning blame on the keys!
Or consider the following use of verb tense and mood. An English speaker
quite readily uses the future tense: “I will arrive around three o’clock.” By contrast, a Spanish speaker usually shies away from the future tense, preferring to use the subjunctive mood (might arrive) in such a case.
Even these brief examples hint at the fascinating, distinct worldviews that helped to shape these three languages in the first place, and that continue to mold them to this day. Is one world view right, and the other wrong? No. Is one linguistic approach better than the other? Not at all. Little by little, we discover that our study of languages always benefits from trying to understand what lies behind the distinctions, what makes a particular language tick, what gives each language its particular genius.
The Language of Benedictine Monasticism
When approaching the study of Benedictine monasticism and its unique language, we encounter many of the same challenges. We quickly become aware that Benedictine monasticism has a vocabulary and lexicon all its own. The Rule of St. Benedict contains words and phrases that may seem foreign to us at first and even a bit mysterious. In addition, we come upon other unfamiliar vocabulary in the Constitutions and Statutes of monastic congregations, as well as in the Customaries and traditions of particular monasteries.
At first, we may find ourselves wondering about terms like cloister, cell, and lectio divina. Perhaps we’re a bit mystified by words such as gyrovague, cellarer, and cuculla. Or
maybe we’ve never heard of expressions like calefactory, cenobite, and slype. Over time, however, we can familiarize ourselves with these and other examples of monastic vocabulary. Words that seemed a bit strange at first become more and more familiar with use. And, of course, the more monastic terms we understand, the deeper our understanding of the monastic way of life can be.
But, as we saw above, learning vocabulary is only a part of learning a new language. There is also the matter of acquiring, and even mastering, a new worldview. This is as true of Benedictine monasticism as it is of French, Spanish, Swedish, or Chinese.
Complicating our efforts, of course, is the fact that we bring our alreadyexisting world view with us to the task. There’s no escaping it. As Americans, our worldview has been shaped within a society that is flooded with images of consumerism, narcissism, affluence, mobility, competition, promiscuity, and selfdetermination. Over against all these influences stands the worldview of Benedictine monasticism, with its unique values–values that have stood the test of time and have endured for 15 centuries:
• Pax: Perhaps no one word summarizes the Benedictine worldview better than peace. It is the trademark and goal of the Benedictine life, and a value that our world so desperately needs to strive for.
• Ora et Labora: The so-called “Benedictine motto” of prayer and work runs a close second to Pax in importance. In a life that seeks balance in all its aspects, as the Benedictine life does, there is no more fundamental value than
striving constantly to keep a balance between one’s prayer and work.
• Seeing Christ: In the Benedictine view of the world, seeing Christ in others is essential: in the poor, in the guest, in the sick, and especially in the abbot or prioress, who “is believed to take the place of Christ in the monastery.”
• Humility: In stark contrast to the “corporate ladder” that is so prevalent in our culture, the “ladder of humility” plays an important part in the worldview of Benedictine monasticism. On this ladder, there are 12 rungs and one “ascends by descending.” One climbs step by step to true humility, which in the words of one author, is a “proper sense of self in a universe of wonders.”
• Moderation: In a world that suffers the negative effects of many excesses, the Benedictine call to moderation shines like a beacon: moderation in speech, in food, in drink, in sleep, even in laughter. Our society is more and more aware of balanced nutrition, or the balance of diet and exercise. Benedictine monasticism shares these values and attempts to apply them to all aspects of life.
• Listening to all: St. Benedict instructs the abbot or prioress to seek the advice of all in the community, even the youngest. The Benedictine values of reverence for the old and love for the young serve
as a vivid reminder that our culture and its worldview have much to learn in this area.
• Harmony with nature: The Rule of St. Benedict urges that one be in harmony with nature by doing simple things, such as getting up later in the winter (because it’s dark) and earlier in the summer. Being in tune with one’s surroundings is certainly a trademark of the Benedictine worldview.
• Reverence for things: St. Benedict would be very much at home in this era of recycling. In fact, he counseled his followers to reverence the tools of their various trades “as if they were the vessels of the altar.” The Benedictine worldview is definitely at odds with the “throw away” emphasis found in many parts of today’s society.
• Conversatio morum: Perhaps no other Benedictine value sums up the lifelong challenge better than this one: conversion of life. One who espouses this value commits self to the ongoing, relentless task of becoming a better person every day. In an age where commitment to anyone or anything stands out as unusual, striving for conversion of life is without a doubt one of the most prophetic elements of the Benedictine worldview.
As with any language, learning the language of Benedictine monasticism takes time and practice. There is the matter of learning some new
vocabulary, to be sure. But, really, that’s the easy part, when all is said and done. More difficult indeed is the task of mastering monasticism’s particular worldview, with all its nuances and aspects.
The good news is that we are not alone in our efforts. One learns any language by listening to and imitating those who speak it fluently. Through
the centuries, and even in our own day, there have been many who speak and teach the language of Benedictine monasticism with skill, fidelity, and love. As those who would be diligent students, let us listen attentively to what they have to teach us.
May God grant that we become increasingly fluent in this simple yet eloquent language, and that we, in
turn, may help teach it to others. May it become more and more a part of who we are, so that we may find ourselves thinking and dreaming in it. Finally, may the language of Benedictine monasticism become for us a lens–a lens that enables us to see God and His creation as they really are, in all their astounding splendor and beauty.
FR. TOBIAS COLGAN, OSB Monk of Saint Meinrad Archabbey
HOMILIES FROM THE HILL
Homily for the Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
First Reading: Ezekiel 17:22-24
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 92:3, 1314, 15-16
Second Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:6-10 Gospel: Mark 4:26-34
Ezekiel was in exile in Babylon with the people of Judah. He was a priest, as well as a prophet, and he had a hard message for the elders in Israel, words filled with condemnation for those who “harbor idolatry in their hearts,” who by their corruption and greed have made Israel into “an adulterous wife that welcomes home strangers instead of her husband.” The words Ezekiel aimed at his fellow priests weren’t any kinder, he indicted them for “feasting on the fat of the flock.”
Walter Brueggemann, a renowned Old Testament scholar, says that the words of the Hebrew prophets do two things–they tear up and tear down what’s old and decrepit, and they build up and plant something new.
Ezekiel is typical of this prophetic pattern. Ezekiel condemns the shepherds of Israel for “feeding themselves,” whereas, says the LORD, “ought they not be feeding my sheep?” He accuses Israel’s shepherds of scattering God’s flock such that they have become food for wild animals; sheep have been lost and no shepherd in Israel goes in search of them, no one binds up their wounds. So, God promises that he, God himself, will shepherd Israel–in Jesus Christ, God’s promise was brought to fulfillment.
Ezekiel also gives us a glimpse of a more promising future, one that strikes a hopeful chord: a future restoration through the renewal of David’s dynasty–a shoot taken from the highest branch of the great cedar, to be planted on the highest mountain in Israel, it will become a great cedar with many branches, producing much fruit, a home for a multitude of birds and winged creatures of every kind.
Last week I was away from the abbey directing a retreat for sisters of a religious order called the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ. In my retreat conferences, I reflected on the importance of the virtue of hospitality in the Christian life. The biblical Greek word we translate as “hospitality” is philoxenia, which more literally means “love for strangers, aliens, foreigners”–it is the exact opposite of a word that points to an attitude prevalent in our country and in our world today, that word is xenophobia–the fear of strangers, aliens, foreigners–or as Jesus might say, the fear of one’s neighbor!
For St. Benedict, welcoming the guest was tantamount to welcoming Christ. To be open and receptive to the guest, we must be willing to surrender prejudicial thinking and allow the other to be themselves without my needing them to be something more like me. To welcome the neighbor with such openness requires that we perceive the stranger through eyes of faith; to see them not as a threat or rival, but as a person–a brother, a sister, the neighbor God commands us to love.
Hospitality demands faith as trust, relying on Jesus’s teaching that the
stranger, especially the least among us, embodies Christ and offers us a graced opportunity to serve Christ by tending to the needs of our neighbor. Several times in the Hebrew scriptures we are commanded to refrain from abusing the foreigner who sojourns among us, for our forebears too were sojourners, strangers when first they came into this land. So, we are to receive all persons as valued fellow human beings, made in God’s image and likeness–honoring their human dignity without preference or prejudice.
Ezekiel’s image of the birds finding shelter in a great cedar grown from the Messianic shoot of David’s dynasty, is like the image Jesus uses in the passage from Mark’s Gospel. From the smallest start the greatest of plants grows, with large branches that provide shelter and shade for the birds of the sky to dwell in.
These images from Ezekiel and Jesus trigger in my mind thoughts of hospitality, which is no soft virtue because it demands we receive others as Christ, respecting and honoring differences such that an abundance of diverse people can dwell together in unity–in peace and harmony–barriers broken down, with true justice for all.
The retreat center I was at last week is called Lindenwood. It’s located on the grounds of the motherhouse of the Poor Handmaids of Jesus Christ in Donaldson, IN, near South Bend, in the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend. There is also a small college there, now affiliated with Marion University, and the campus is wooded with beautiful, cultivated gardens on the edge of a small lake. Some of the property abutting the lake is restored
wetlands filled with indigenous plants and trees, and the birdlife is extraordinarily abundant!
In the mornings, I would sit in one of the gardens and listen to songbird species of all sorts, they’d be flitting about dressed up in red and blue, orange and gold. There was waterfowl too: the ubiquitous Canada geese, but also wood ducks, majestic herons, and white egrets, there was even an osprey pair nesting on a pole at one end of the lake, where an enormous bed of water lilies bloomed on the surface of the water.
In the cool of the morning, all I could hear was birdsong and breezes rustling the trees. It was like a contest to see which species would dominate the airwaves with its chirping and warbling, tittering and chittering, blue jays and cardinals trilling complex ostinatos, along with the mundane cawing and cackling of cowbirds, blackbirds, and crows–it was amazing to hear, it was, well, it was Edenic. Honestly, between the birdsong, the sunshine, and the unseasonably cool breezes, it was a taste of paradise.
The image of so many birds finding a home in the shade of the great cedar represents the diversity of God’s
people united in peace. And we humans, as stewards of this creation, are meant not only to care for it and till it, but to participate in it by welcoming the many, a diversity of people, and building a world where we can live together in harmony. If the Church can’t strive to do this, then we are failing in our mission, because this is what Jesus’ Kingdom promises to be.
His is a kingdom that has already begun; it is now insofar as we who call ourselves the disciples of Jesus live according to his commandment to love one another: to reach out and tend the needs of the least among us, to bind their wounds, to find the lost, to accompany the wayward, to stand with the marginalized, to welcome the stranger–in short, to love our neighbor as ourselves.
God’s kingdom may start small, and it may be surrounded by a lot of darkness today, but when we members of Christ strive to embody the principles and live by the politics of Jesus’s Gospel, we are its leaven, we are salt for the world, we are light in the dark, stepping up and spreading hope for a more inclusive, more generous, more loving, and more merciful society–a community where
FR.
all can feel safe because they are safe, and where every person’s dignity is respected and honored by everyone else.
It began with Jesus and spreads through you and me, and one day God’s promised reign will be fully and permanently realized when Christ comes again in glory. And blessed are they who have been part of it all along–for they will inherit the Kingdom of God.
Here are questions we must answer for ourselves each day–for one day we will stand before the judgment seat of Christ and we’ll have to have answers: Have we been scattering the seed of God’s Word, or the sheep of God’s flock? Have we been gathering people, uniting what has become divided, or have we been gathering mammon, wealth, power and privilege, accolades and honors? Have we been participating in the mission of Jesus, or living according to the patterns of worldly desire?
How we answer these questions determine what we stand for, what we value most, and ultimately, who or what is our god.
ADRIAN BURKE,
OSB Monk of Saint Meinrad Archabbey
“
How we answer these questions determine what we stand for, what we value most, and ultimately, who or what is our god.
GETTING TO THE HEART OF STABILITY: WHAT
KIND OF MONK/OBLATE ARE YOU?
Editor’s note: This is the first article in a five-part series. This article is adapted from “Four Kinds of Monks: four obstacles to seeking God,” originally published in American Benedictine Review (Sept. 1994), pp. 303-320. I thank the editor, Fr. Terrence Kardong, OSB, for his kind permission to make my reflections available to our oblates.
Archabbot Lambert, Saint Meinrad’s spiritual leader from 1995 through 2004, enjoyed passing on the following to the many groups with whom he spoke:
“I’ve never met a Jesuit who could teach. I’ve never met a Dominican who could preach. I’ve never met a Franciscan who was poor. And I’ve never met a Benedictine in his own monastery!”
His playful punch reminds us that while few religious ever master the high ideals of their particular calling, each order does have its unique charism. Each has its distinctive mark, its distinctive contribution, a specific work it does or a value it promotes, which sets it apart from the others and for which it is especially known.
As Archabbot Lambert’s remark suggests, stability is the vow that reflects the distinctive feature of Benedictine monastic life. Monks take other vows (obedience and conversation morum–the ongoing conversion of our ways), and these certainly are fundamental to the way they live their lives. But it is the vow of stability that is the distinctive mark of the monastic life. We will consider the vow of stability as it applies to monks and to oblates. But first let us clarify what stability means–and what it does not mean.
Many believe that stability binds a monk to a particular monastery for the rest of his life. By professing stability, they believe, the monk promises never to leave the monastery
except under necessary or extreme circumstances.
There is some truth in this. Many monks do spend most or all of their lives at their monastery. Often, they are those who have specialized skills necessary for the daily operation of their monastic house. But while “geographical stability” may be the case for many monks, for others their stability to a particular community is expressed more by their commitment to their monastery’s works. Some of our monks spend years away from the Hill, but they do so tending faithfully to a particular work Saint Meinrad contributes to the Church. In fact, six times in our history monks have left the Hill to establish monastic foundations elsewhere. These founding monks may transfer their stability to the new monastery, but they will always claim Saint Meinrad as their monastic home, their monastic “place of birth.”
So, while “geographical permanence” is often part of the meaning of the vow of stability, it does not exhaust the meaning of the vow. And ultimately, whether a monk spends the better part of his time at his monastery or away from it (tending to one of the monastery’s works), the core meaning of stability goes beyond the notion of simply staying in one place for a long time. This is particularly true when we consider what the vow of stability means for oblates. For example, most of our oblates are not here on the Hill for lengthy periods of time. Many of you come to Saint Meinrad once or twice
a year to celebrate special occasions with us or to enjoy the retreats and days of recollection we offer. Due to family circumstances and needs, however, years might go by before others of you are able to spend any time at all with us. Again, this is why it is important to move beyond understanding stability merely in terms of one’s geographical residence.
“Home is where the heart is,” and stability ultimately is about just that. Where is your heart? Where is your greatest love? Where is your greatest treasure? Without minimizing the importance of the monk residing in the monastery under a rule and an abbot, the vow of stability, ultimately for the monk and clearly for the oblate, relates to how they have “stabilized” their spirit—how they have set their hearts—in their search for God. Presuming the monk and the oblate have committed themselves to seeking God, the vow of stability challenges them to get on with the search here and now.
Stability challenges us to recognize the opportunities for growth and grace we have before us now, at the present time and in our present place, rather than our always waiting for the perfect opportunity to materialize in that elusive “sometime in the future.” Yes, patience is a virtue. But when patience mutates into procrastination, it becomes a vice. And in the spiritual life, procrastination is one of the easiest, most common traps into which we can fall. Stability would have us remember that when it comes to seeking God, it is not enough merely
to know what our goal is. Stability would have us abandon forever the excuse that “this isn’t quite yet just the right place or the right time” to grow in our relationship with God, and to use the means we have available here and now.
Writing about Benedictine stability some years ago, our Fr. Hilary Ottensmeyer, OSB, (+2000) had this to say:
“The evil that stability of heart seeks to avoid is one that our times reflect so clearly, i.e., restlessness of mind and heart, thirst for new experiences, and the allure of life in the “fast lane.” With these pursuits, often the desire for depth diminishes and life becomes superficial, an unceasing search for new and exciting adventures.”
To expand upon Fr. Hilary’s words: one description of today’s culture is that it is a “culture of searching.” We search for the perfect job, the perfect place to live and the perfect spouse or friends with whom to live. We search for the perfect vacation, the perfect experience. Many times, even the more spiritual aspects of our lives can fall victim to this addiction to searching. We search for the perfect parish, which, of course, has to come with the perfect priest. We search for the perfect form of prayer and the perfect place in which to pray it. We search for the perfect meditation, the perfect book, the perfect teacher, believing that when we find them, then—and only then—we will be able to become the monk, the oblate, we want to be.
Since we are concerned here especially with what the vow of stability means for our oblates, we must again remember that stability means much more than physical presence at a
particular place. Let us consider this. What would our lives be like if we put the meaning of the vow of stability completely on hold? What kind of monks, what kind of oblates, would we be? As we reflect upon what the vow of stability implies for the ongoing conversion of monks and oblates, let’s first reflect upon the “kinds of monks” with which Benedict was familiar.
Different Kinds of Monks
“There are clearly four kinds of monks,” St. Benedict writes, introducing the first chapter of his Rule. After identifying the anchorites and cenobites as the “good kinds,” Benedict lists the “bad”: the “most detestable” sarabaites and the gyrovagues, who are “in every way ... worse than sarabaites” (1:6.11).1
As described by Benedict, the vices of the sarabaites and gyrovagues are as obvious as are the virtues of the anchorites and cenobites. But I intend here neither to continue Benedict’s justified criticism of “bad monks,” nor to add to his sound praise of the “good ones.” While these neat divisions served Benedict’s purpose well as he introduced and set the tone for his Rule, such a cursory assessment of monks today as either “good” or “bad” would be both unjust and inaccurate. There are few monks—or oblates—who would not readily admit they could become “better,” and the simple categorization of any of us as “good” or “bad” does not reflect well the complexities of human reality, either today or in the time of Benedict.
What I offer here are my observations and reflections as regards several tendencies that regularly nudge us along in directions in which we do not want to go, or which slow us
down on that “path of God’s commandments” (Prologue, 49) on which we initially set out to run. These tendencies underlie the more manifest vices of the sarabaites and gyrovagues, but they also emerge when the inherently good qualities of the anchorites and cenobites proceed in an unbalanced, and perhaps misguided, fashion.
Bad Kinds of Monks
Those of us familiar with the Benedictine culture know that we sometimes use these titles as a form of self-deprecating humor or as a tonguein-cheek comment on the preferences or travel opportunities of another. None of us chooses to be a sarabaite or a gyrovague, just as none of us sets up their “disgraceful way of life” as our norm. And yet, those who seek God in community must regularly confront and fight the inclinations or orientations—the tendencies—of these “bad kind” of monks, for the tendencies of the sarabaite and gyrovague present constant obstacles to anyone interested in seeking God according to the Benedictine way of life.
The Sarabaites: Where there’s a will, it’s theirs
We recall what St. Benedict has to say about this first class of “bad monks”:
“ ... there are the sarabaites, the most detestable kind of monks, who with no experience to guide them, no rule to cry them as gold is tried in a furnace, have a character as soft as lead. Still loyal to the world by their actions, they clearly lie to God by their tonsure. Two or three together, or even alone, without a shepherd, they pen themselves up in their own sheepfolds, not the Lord’s. Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes
1 The English translation of the Rule used here is from RB 1980: The Rule of St. Benedict, ed. Timothy Fry, OSB, (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1981).
their fancy. Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden” (1:6-9).
Benedict’s description of the sarabaites reads something like a manifesto of free will and self-determination. The “self” and “self-posturing” are evident in practically every phrase: two or three together ... even alone ... without a shepherd ... their own sheepfolds ... their law ... what they like to do ... their fancy ... anything they believe in.
Let us concede that few of us today would welcome a way of life based upon behavior exactly opposite that of the sarabaites. Blind obedience and total passivity appeal to few of us. But Benedict does not intend here to criticize the monk whose sense of healthy independence is tempered by honesty and humility. (Benedict’s words in Chapter 3, “Summoning the Brothers for Counsel,” and Chapter 68, “Assignment of Impossible Tasks to a Brother,” are but two examples of his encouraging individual monks to offer their advice and opinions respectfully, humbly, and honestly.) He criticizes, rather, those who stand by themselves and who, in so doing, stand only for themselves. These are the true sarabaites: those opposed to any authority of another. And they are opposed to the authority of another “in principle” because that authority is not their own.
Such rebellion is, of course, in obvious opposition to the Benedictine way of life, and is a rebellion we choose not to engage in (with unfortunate and inevitable exceptions). We do not wish to be sarabaites. But what is the tendency which, while reaching its extreme expression in the willful actions of Benedict’s “bad monks,”
can pull even “good monks” off the path of willing obedience and nudge them in the direction of that kind of self-governance that he severely condemns?
Benedict suggests what this tendency is, as he describes the sarabaites as those who have “no experience to guide them, no rule to try them as gold is tried in a furnace …” The note in the RB 1980 commenting upon this verse reads, in part: “The juxtaposition of ‘rule’ and ‘experience’ suggests that the experience by which the monk should be taught is not only his own but that of teachers as well. The sarabaites lack a rule and a teacher, while the cenobites have both.”
In one section of the lengthy introduction of the RB 1980, Mark Sheridan likens the Rule of St. Benedict to the literary genre known as wisdom literature. A particular aspect of such literature, he observes, “is that it must be caught or inculcated without the expectation of immediate comprehension.” Such comprehension comes only later, Sheridan notes, for it would be unrealistic to expect newcomers “to appreciate the wisdom of many provisions of the Rule ... until he or she has actually practiced them.”2
What Sheridan seems to be suggesting, in part, is that for the Rule (or other wisdom literature) to make its mark on its readers, those readers must be willing but not willful: they must be willing to set aside their own wills, willing to suspend their estimation that they are their own best teachers, and willing to allow themselves to be “cross-examined” by the teachings, wisdom, and challenges offered by another. While we have come a long way from the days when
one of the cloister’s commandments suggested that “novices be seen and not heard,” we continue to presume— and a safe presumption it generally is—that the young monk has far more to learn from his elders than they from him.
But it is not only the young who face the task of becoming more willing than willful. For most of us, surrendering our will, which is something the sarabaites clearly do not do, seldom means accepting an assignment we find totally repulsive. While such instances do occur, a more usual and frequent way in which we are called to this surrender is the surrendering of our opinions, perspectives, and experiences to another.
In the context of daily monastic life, this kind of surrender is more than the customary and much-sought-after “sharing” between confreres. When we make our thoughts or experiences known for the sake of testing and trying the mettle of our own fancy, we not only share but do indeed surrender. For as we submit our thoughts about our way of life, as we offer our perception of the religious ideals that guide and form our community, and as we discuss how our own thoughts and experiences influence our living out those ideals, we may, precisely because those thoughts and experiences are presented to another, have to modify our opinions or re-evaluate our experience.
If the sarabaites of Benedict’s Rule are those who have “no experience to guide them, no rule to try them,” then perhaps the sarabaitic tendency that lingers within us at various times in our spiritual journey is that reluctance to surrender our wills by exposing them to the responsible questioning
2 RB 1980, “The Relevance of the Rule Today,” p. 146.
and challenging of the collective experience and wisdom around us. Put another way, the vice of Benedict’s full-blown sarabaites is that they define the monastic life in their own terms. The tendency of the sarabaites is that, because they believe their experience or interpretation of the religious life suffices for them to live out that life, they see little need to balance that experience, to test and to try that experience, with the experience and wisdom of others.
This sarabaitic tendency may be reflected, at least in part, by the reluctance or outright refusal on the part of some religious to take advantage (and the challenge) of spiritual direction once the obligation of doing so is no longer in effect. Attitudes such as “I know how to run my life ... Spiritual direction is for the ‘formation years’ ... I won't hear anything I don’t already know” and the like are not unheard of, and may indicate that an important channel of spiritual checks and balances, an element of that testing as gold is tried in a furnace, is missing. Independence in and assumption of responsibility for
our own lives are values many of us today hold dear, but they are values that are encouraged and strengthened, not threatened or weakened, when they are tried and tested against the wisdom and experience of another.
There is yet another sarabaitic tendency that can deter us in our search for God, one that is practically native to living in community, and which appeals more to those inclined to follow than to lead. We recall Benedict’s closing comments in his description of the sarabaites: “[They] pen themselves up in their own sheepfolds, not the Lord’s. Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes their fancy. Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden” (I :9).
They pen themselves up in their own sheepfolds. A comfortable familiarity with our confreres and the anticipation of the support they can offer us are among those features that attract many of us to the common life. But the familiarity we often encounter in the “sheepfolds of our own
choosing” is a familiarity that often breeds contempt for those outside that sheepfold. The support offered by such groups, moreover, generally lacks the kind of confrontation and challenge that encourages us to examine ourselves. Our inclination, at times, to “pen ourselves up in our own sheepfolds” (the contemporary term is, of course, clique) is but a reflection of the fact that the easy establishment of “company” is less risky than the building of companionship, and that simple security often appeals to us more than the Christian scrutiny genuine friends or mentors can offer. We need not comment at length as to the hazards posed to both individual and community by cliques; we simply note that the characteristic tragedy of these “self-designated sheepfolds” is that they are far easier to enter than to exit, and that the objective sin of such groups is that they usually attend, not to encouraging the healthy growth of its members, but to observing in some detail the rough, unpolished edges of others.
In the second article in this series, gyrovagues will be discussed.
ARCHABBOT KURT STASIAK, OSB Saint Meinrad, IN
CONVERSION AND PRAYER: THE WORKS OF BENEDICTINE OBLATES OF SAINT MEINRAD ARCHABBEY
(This is an edited text of a talk given by Archabbot Lambert to the oblate coordinators and representatives on June 6, 1998)
My brothers and sisters, religious life in the Church began with the monks. In the beginning, there was only one vow. The vow was conversion. Men became monks to become better, endlessly. They established a school of the Lord’s service, from which no one would graduate. Lessons were always to be learned. The work of the monks was the work of the Church. Wherever they were, they did what the Church needed.
As centuries passed, other communities arose, inspired by God to particular work. The Jesuits came on the scene to teach and to be missionaries. The Passionist came on the scene to proclaim the message of Christ through His cross. The Franciscans, the Dominicans, and the Carmelites came on the scene as mendicants, to beg for their needs to undertake service. The Dominicans were to preach. The Franciscans were to be with the common people, and so on. All these communities were founded to do particular work.
The Benedictines were founded to seek God and to do work in the area where they were. As time went on, the Church expressed its needs, and the Benedictines became teachers and missionaries. Their whole life, however, was tied to prayer. They prayed the official prayer of the Church. That’s what we call the Divine Office or the Liturgy of the Hours. They became the champions of this prayer.
Later on, other communities would take on particular aspects of devotion.
For example, the Marianists and the Servites are specifically dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Benedictines are tied to the liturgy: the Liturgy of the Hours and the celebration of the Eucharist. All of these other communities are bound together in a rather tightly established way. Almost all of them have a superior general. They belong to provinces, and they can be sent here and there. The Benedictines, however, live in a particular place.
Each Benedictine house has its prayer and its specific work. It just so happens that I finished a retreat yesterday at Blue Cloud, SD. That community, founded from Saint Meinrad, has prayer like ours but their work is with the Indians. On Monday I will begin a retreat for St. Vincent Archabbey in Latrobe, PA. It’s the first Benedictine monastery in the United States; we’re the second. The work of St. Vincent Archabbey has been college work, seminary work, and parish work. Last year I gave a retreat at Marmion Abbey in Aurora, IL, another foundation of ours. When it was founded, its primary work was a military academy.
Years ago, I gave a retreat at Morristown, NJ. The Benedictine monks there have an exclusive middle school and high school for boys. In August, I will give a retreat in Washington, D.C., at St. Anselm’s Abbey, which is made up of English Benedictines. They operate an exclusive school in Washington for sixth through twelfth grades. Prince of Peace Abbey in Oceanside, CA, where
I spent two years, was founded by us. Their main work is to receive guests. They have a prayer life similar to ours, but their work is different from ours. We have been here in southern Indiana for 145 years. We’ve been doing seminary work from the beginning.
The life of a Benedictine monastery, however, is not tied to its work. As time changes and the Church has new needs, then the Benedictines are to adapt and supply. It so happens in the archdiocese in which we are located, having the archbishop as one of our own monks, we have 14 full-time men now working in parishes because the diocese needs the service of more priests. In our life as Benedictines, there is prayer and there is work. The work, according to the needs of the Church, is determined by the monastery and where it is located.
Oblates are people who are attached to particular monasteries. The second vow after conversion is stability, meaning the monks were tied to a particular place. Even though they are sent out, they come always back to that particular place. So, also, the oblates are tied to a particular monastery. The big difference between the oblates and the monks is that the oblates live in the world and have jobs or an avocation. They have something to do. The work they do is already established in their lives.
Your work is your work, just like our work is our work. And what you share with us is our prayer. You hallow the day by praying the Divine Office. You
hallow the day by your lectio. You hallow the day by your attendance at the celebration of the Eucharist. Your work is your work; your prayer is joined with ours.
In the monastery, there are people who have different interests. For instance, Fr. Noël will be chaplain to a group of people who are physically disabled. He’s physically disabled; he’ll lend himself to that chaplaincy. But that undertaking is with the approval of the abbot. He does not take on this work on his own. He has his other work assigned here. Fr. Noël works in the Office of Continuing Education. He also helps, along with others, a group of Spanish speaking people who live in Dale and Huntingburg.
Every once in a while, someone wants to lead a pilgrimage. We are not in the work of leading pilgrimages. If somebody leads a pilgrimage, he has permission of the abbot to do so. That doesn’t say that Saint Meinrad leads pilgrimages. It means that a particular monk has permission to do so. (The abbot approves all work—here and away—which the monks take on.)
Now you join us in prayer. You know what our work is. You’re welcome here; we’re glad for you to come. We want you to participate with us in the celebration of the Eucharist and the Divine Office. And you have your meetings and your lectio and your discussions. But you have no work given to you by the monastery specifically.
It’s possible that there are several members of a particular group of oblates that have an interest. That interest is fine. But that interest isn’t identified with being an oblate. That is over and above. That’s not ours; that’s yours. That’s your choice. Because you are members of a particular chapter, you don’t decide that the group, as oblates, is going to take on a particular project. It may be
that every one of you belongs to that group and decides that you are going to do that project, but you won’t be doing that as oblates.
Anything that is done as oblates has to have, as in the monastery, the official approval of the abbot. In the Benedictine way of life, that’s just the way it is. The abbot is supreme; he is the only one who is elected. All the rest are appointed. There is no such thing as a term of office for any of the rest. People hold an office, as they say, “ad nutum abbatis,” at the nod of the abbot.
So, you see, our life is tied to prayer, and it is tied to work. It’s the official prayer of the Church and the liturgy that we are tied to. As individual monks, we have our piety and our piety is our own, and many of us have piety that is similar. For instance, you will always find a rosary in my righthand pocket. There is seldom a day that I don’t pray 15 decades. But I don’t say to the monks, “Pray 15 decades of the rosary.” That is over and above; that’s my choice and theirs if they wish.
Somebody might think everything has to be tied to the Blessed Mother. Then that person should seek association with a community such as the Servites or the Marianists. I remember giving a particular talk to oblates and somebody came up to me and said, “You didn’t mention the Blessed Mother. You should mention the Blessed Mother in every talk.” I said, “I don’t think so.” Now, if that is what you think, then you find people who are of the same mind. We all have ideas, and we all think we know what should be done.
When I go from one monastery to another, I see that they do things in different ways. That’s their business; that’s their monastery. We have Morning Office at 5:30 a.m. We’re probably one of the earliest rising
communities of Benedictines in the United States. We always sing Lauds and Vespers; some places don’t. Well, I don’t go there and say, “You should do what we do.” No, I belong to this community, and they belong to their community.
We are not all alike and, just as you people sitting next to each other are not alike, no one Benedictine community is exactly like the next. No one member of the community is exactly like the next. I always get a kick out of people who say, “Oh, now the Legionnaires of Christ, they are so conservative.” Some are and some aren’t. Some say, “Oh, look at the Benedictines of this community; they are so liberal.” Some are and some aren’t. And the truth of the matter is, in each one of us there are conservative elements and there are liberal elements. There are scrupulous elements and there are unscrupulous elements. And the compilation or distribution of them is what makes each of us unique.
We are very happy to have oblates at Saint Meinrad. Some have been with us so long that we see them as often as we see some members of the community who are stationed somewhere else and come back every so often. And we love the oblates, and we want to do everything we can for the oblates. We want the oblates to be involved in the praying of the Divine Office, in lectio divina and to be very attentive to the celebration of the Eucharist. We want the oblates to take what they learn, practically, by the way they live, to the work that is theirs.
We don’t want oblates taking over. No one takes over in a Benedictine community. Everything has to be filtered through the abbot. Sometime for fun, when you have about a week, look at all of the mentions of the abbot in the Rule: “At the abbot’s approval … at the abbot’s instigation.” The abbot has a very heavy, difficult
job. And certainly, somebody should want to be abbot. But anyone who is abbot has to believe that God wants him to be abbot. I remember Archbishop Leibold from Cincinnati, who used to say, “The man who desires to be a bishop deserves to be a bishop.” One of the things that is extremely important for members of a Benedictine community—and for oblates—is that they pray for the abbot. As St. Benedict says, “the abbot will have to give an account for all of the actions for those who are under him.”
One of the things I keep harping on endlessly is that we should change, and we should change especially in quick speech and judgment. Let me tell you a little story. I get to go to a lot of funerals. I like to go to funerals. A funeral is about the only time that I am jealous that somebody has moved on to God and here I have to stay. A lot of times, the funerals are at 11 a.m. or noon. This means I don’t have to leave right away, so I stay for the conventual Mass. So, on these days when I go to funerals, I am at two Masses. I concelebrate the funeral, or I have the funeral Mass, and I attend the conventual Mass with the community members. I don’t concelebrate two Masses.
There was a woman visiting here for three days. I was going to funerals for those three days, and I was at morning Mass those three days. The woman left here and went to an international congress with her husband. And during a talk at that conference, she publicly said, “I won’t send a seminarian to Saint Meinrad because the abbot there doesn’t say Mass.”
All she knew was that for three days the abbot did not say Mass at that Mass. That was all she knew. Her action and her speech remind me of what my grandmother used to tell me when I was just a kid, “The most
exercise you get is jumping to conclusions.”
So, oblates, monks—anybody tied up with conversion—should be working for change. There is so much harm done by people who are good because they are not interested in correcting themselves and getting better. I like to say to good people, “You are too good not to get better.” We are not just interested in you being here to smile at us and us to smile at you. We are interested in your joining in what is basically our charism, the charism of change and conversion.
We had some people who were around here frequently, and they sort of took over, in a way. They went up to every visitor and said, “Who are you? Where are you from?” They wanted to get in on everything. Well, a lot of people come just to be quiet. They want anonymity; they don’t want to be bothered.
Then these people began to say, “Fr. So-and-So should be doing this and doing that.” They became a real pain in the neck. Somebody asked me how I would describe them. I said, “It would be like I was going into my living room and there would be people sitting there with their feet up on my coffee table smiling at me.”
You know this is our monastery. We invite you here. We want you, but not as critics. We’re glad to hear if you have something to say that is objectively good, but we invite you and we want you to be here as people struggling along with us to become better. And becoming better is tied with the celebration of the Eucharist, with praying of the Divine Office, and with our lectio
I’m giving you a picture of what I, as the abbot of Saint Meinrad, see as the position of oblates. I’m not saying don’t take on good work, but I’m
saying do that as individuals. What you can do from what you learn as oblates is to sanctify that work. But don’t think that you can hang out a shingle and say, “As oblates, this is our project in our parish.” Now, as individuals, that’s marvelous. As a group, fine. As oblates, no. None of the monks take on anything that is over and above without the abbot’s approval.
We all have our pet devotions, and we should. Let me tell you a couple of mine—and I’m not asking you to take these on. Every morning when I get up, I immediately kneel on the floor, look at the crucifix and pray, “We adore thee, O Christ, and we praise thee, because by Thy holy cross Thou hast redeemed the world.” I have a litany that I pray endlessly. I turn my hands over the rosary constantly on this. It goes: “Mary mother, Joseph protector, angels guardian, Benedict father, Meinrad patron, Elizabeth Seton friend, pray for us.” That’s mine; that’s not a litany of the Saint Meinrad community.
We have a crypt dedicated to St. Joseph. The statue of St. Joseph that was in the church for years is in that crypt. Every day, I go to the crypt to pray to St. Joseph. He is a great friend of mine. When I pray that little litany, I say his name twice. These are my devotions.
In my retreats to Benedictine communities, I have found that some abbots, like some CEOs, are micromanagers. They are on everything. And others are macro-managers. I don’t know where I fit, but I will say this much: I trust and trust and trust. And when I put somebody in charge, he’s in charge. And he’s in charge unless there is something I have to say to him. I usually like to say, “Congratulations.” When I go from one monastery to another, giving retreats, I hear so much praise for
different people in our community. And I am asked, as I was just asked this past weekend at Blue Cloud, “How are the oblates doing?” Everybody is looking to the oblates at Saint Meinrad. That is what somebody told me. That’s an exaggeration, but you know people sometimes exaggerate. And I like it.
This is your home, and you are welcome here. Just as you run your home and you determine how people are welcome, so we do the same thing. We do love you, and we want you to pray with us, and we want you to become better all the time. St. Augustine has a nice saying, “We will either spend our time criticizing others
or correcting self.” Oblates and monks following the Rule of St. Benedict are vowed to correct self. So, let’s get better together. Good enough is not good enough. God bless you all.
“Let us consider, then, how we ought to behave in the presence of God and his angels…” (RB 19:6).
FR. LAMBERT REILLY, OSB
Former Archabbot of Saint Meinrad Archabbey
We trust that if we reach out in love to the world around us, those seeking a closer walk with God will be led to join us. “
IN FOCUS: BLOOMINGTON OBLATE CHAPTER
Chapter Coordinator, Clayton Nunes, along with Susan McNamera, Diane Rivera, Candi Bailey, and Msgr. Fred Easton answered our questions, giving us a view into the Bloomington, Indiana, Chapter of Benedictine Oblates. What follows is a look into the rich and dynamic life of the oldest Saint Meinrad oblate chapter.
When was your chapter established, and can you share an overview about your history?
Our chapter was established by Oblate Director Fr. Gerard Ellspermann, OSB. A small oblate group from Bloomington was looking to deepen their spiritual life, and in May 1991, they made a visit to the guest house at Saint Meinrad. They were not aware of the Benedictine Oblates of Saint Meinrad Archabbey. Fr. Gerard made a trip to Bloomington to talk with a group of 11 interested people. Six of them were invested in September of that year. Three of those individuals made their final oblation.
The three founding members of the Bloomington Oblate Chapter are Janis Dopp, Nancy Lux, and Diane Riveria. In the beginning years, the chapter was a small group of four to seven people. The group began by meeting in each other’s homes with Fr. Gerard and the later oblate directors, Fr. Michael Keene, OSB, and Fr. Meinrad Brune, OSB, for Mass, a meal, prayer, and discussion. They would also meet to share a book on Benedictine spirituality on a weekly basis. It was bonding and uplifting. The chapter grew through the charismatic personality of Janis and by word of mouth to others. The chapter grew in 1998, when about eight additional
members made their investiture. A larger meeting place was required and developed into our monthly large group Vespers, pitch-in dinner, and presentation by a monk from Saint Meinrad or others in the parish hall at St. Charles. A few years ago, we added a weekly Vesper service in the Church on Wednesdays and welcomed all parishioners to join. At one point in time, there would be over 30 members attending the large group meetings.
Since Bloomington is a larger oblate chapter, what considerations are important to your group regarding enough space and scheduling?
For many years we have met as a chapter on the first Thursday of the month. The meetings include Vespers, a pitch-in meal followed by a short reading from the Rule, a shortened business meeting, a presentation, and a short discussion. Each October, members are encouraged to bring guests to the large group meeting to join us, though anyone is welcome to visit us at any time. At our chapter meetings we usually have 15 to 25 members attending. We light candles and often have flowers on the meeting tables. We have a sign-in book at each meeting which records the names of attending members and the visiting monk or speaker. Name tags are provided at meetings. We also have a portable cart containing a lending library of devotional books. We keep an archive collection of photos and chapter history as well. Some of us meet every Wednesday at 6 p.m. for Vespers at St. Charles Borromeo Church. We use Saint Meinrad’s Liturgy of the Hours for Benedictine Oblates. Our members would initially recite the Vespers but eventually
began chanting them. Having a meeting space that members can gather in a casual setting to socialize, pray, and listen to a presentation is important.
We have a planning committee that meets monthly to help plan for the upcoming chapter meetings. The planning committee consists primarily of the leads of our small groups. Besides planning the chapter meeting, the group also discusses any other needs our chapter may have.
Prayer is central to Benedictine life. How does your oblate chapter pray at meetings, and how does that strengthen your oblate community?
Our chapter meetings always begin with prayer, including the Prayer to Saint Benedict, our mission statement, and a reading from the Rule of St. Benedict. The closing prayer incorporates intentions for members and the monks of Saint Meinrad. We stay connected and let others know by email if we learn of any emergency situations, illness, travel or other concerns so we can pray for one another. Our members visit our homebound when possible and bring them a little gift to cheer them up. We also encourage members to sign up to lead the different prayers at each chapter meeting, which keeps everyone engaged.
When and where do you meet and what can someone expect at a meeting? Do you have special celebrations throughout the year?
The Bloomington Oblate Chapter meets the first Thursday of each month. We gather for the 5:30 p.m.
Mass, followed by Vespers in the church. The members then regroup in the parish hall for a pitch-in meal, prayer, presentation, and discussion. We try to conclude by 8 p.m. to allow time for clean-up of the facility. A smaller number of chapter members meet in the church at 6 p.m. each Wednesday for Vespers and it is open for anyone who would like to join or learn more. We also gather at St. Charles Church annually for renewal of oblation at the altar and once a year to remember oblates and monks that have passed before us.
The Bloomington Chapter has been fortunate to have a monk visit us monthly at our chapter meetings. We also enjoy periodic small groups that meet for socializing. For instance, this past Sunday one of our chapter members hosted a luncheon for oblates in her home. She has also hosted “musical” tea afternoons which we have had the pleasure of sharing with visiting monks. We enjoy a summer picnic, and we usually try to organize a “Day on the Hill” for oblates and anyone in the parish that is interested. The “Day on the Hill” visits to Saint Meinrad are a great opportunity to promote and spread the word to parishioners in Bloomington about Saint Meinrad and the Benedictine Oblates of Saint Meinrad Archabbey. Finally, we have an annual service day in March every year with the Alumni Office’s annual Saint Meinrad Day of Service.
Are novices and those interested in Benedictine spirituality welcomed to your meetings? What support does your community offer to both new and seasoned oblates?
All are welcome to attend our monthly chapter meetings and weekly Vespers scheduled on Wednesdays. We will personally invite people to join us that may be lingering in the church after Mass and greet any guests at the beginning of each meeting.
New guests are also given an envelope by our novice mentor that contains a brochure called “What is an Oblate,” a welcome letter with contact information if they wish to have a deeper conversation about the oblate community and Saint Meinrad. The envelope also includes a copy of the Saint Meinrad oblate newsletter and a card explaining the promises and duties of an oblate.
We are one of the few oblate chapters that has a chapter novice mentor. Our chapter’s novice mentor, Susan McNamera, meets with novices and escorts them on a tour of Saint Meinrad. The chapter novice mentor always attends investitures/oblations of our novices. We also usually have other members of the Bloomington Oblate Chapter attend these important events.
The chapter novice mentor hosts monthly meetings to review any questions on the lessons or other aspects of Benedictine life with each novice, either privately in her home or as a group where we invite some of the longer-term oblates as well. This helps facilitate introducing the novice members to other members of the chapter. The small groups in the past have included book studies on Benedictine spirituality and specific topic-driven afternoons such as Lectio Divina and praying the Liturgy of the Hours. Our chapter novice mentor tries to connect with the novice members each month and meet additionally on an “as-needed basis” for discussion and to answer questions.
How does your oblate chapter explore and enrich their understanding of the Rule of St. Benedict?
We explore and enrich our understanding of the Rule through our large group presentations, small group
book studies, and the many wonderful retreats offered by Saint Meinrad. All members are encouraged to make at least one retreat per year on the Hill. One of our chapter members is currently working on putting together a plan to coordinate a small group to do an in-depth study of the Rule. We read a segment of the Rule at each chapter meeting and small group meetings. We also have had book study groups that have focused on reading commentaries alongside study of the Rule.
Oblates come with their own struggles in life such as death, illnesses, and family concerns. How and when do your oblates share these concerns and how does this sharing enrich your prayer and work as a chapter?
We have a dedicated intercessory prayer group that is coordinated by Nancy Owen. We pass on word of any needs, illnesses, or deaths to her to share with this group who pray in their homes. We have established several small groups to assist with the needs of the large group chapter meeting. We also have a hospitality committee headed by Sunita Nunes to set up and clean up for meetings. Importantly, we have a communications group that helps with activities to stay in touch with chapter members that have not been attending chapter events and check on homebound members if they need a visit, a ride to meetings, or anything else. That information in turn is conveyed to the intercessory prayer group. We have added vocal prayer intentions at our closing prayer during our monthly chapter meetings to keep members informed of any needs and to reinforce our bonds as brothers and sisters.
In our chapter we have established an “angel fund” to cover expenses to attend a retreat at Saint Meinrad or other specific needs.
Each year we gather to pray the Liturgy for the Dead and to remember those oblates and monks who have passed that year. Oblate Dorothy Ann Strange makes special remembrance cards with the names of those lost. We read their names out and hand out a rose to a volunteer who agrees to pray every day for the oblate or monk for a year.
The sheer number of oblates in the Bloomington area means that there are many people living the Benedictine Rule in local churches and schools. What are signs of the positive impact that the oblates of Saint Meinrad have on these communities?
Bloomington’s larger community has benefited with our volunteer work connected to the Saint Meinrad Day of Service. In the past years, as part of the Saint Meinrad Day of Service, we have volunteered at the Shalom Center for the homeless as well as the Stone Belt center for disabled people. A separate ministry of driving residents to Mass has developed out of this service day. Our chapter has also hosted a movie night showing the movie “Risen” which was well attended by parish members. Our planning committee actively seeks opportunities to connect and share with the larger parish.
Your chapter is just short of a twohour drive from Saint Meinrad and many of you visit the Archabbey often. Tell us a little about visits to Saint Meinrad, and how these visits keep your chapter connected.
Any visit to Saint Meinrad is held as precious by our chapter members. For many of us, on our very first visit to the Archabbey, we felt we had found our spiritual home. Our Archabbot and brothers exemplify hospitality to all who come. Being able to attend Mass and Vespers on the Hill, to have access to the Sacraments, and simply
“be” in that holy place with those who have made Christ central to all things is a little foretaste of heaven.
Attending the retreats given by Saint Meinrad not only serves to enlighten the spiritual journey but provides a wonderful opportunity to meet and form bonds with others who are trying to apply and live the wisdom of St. Benedict.
Each year during the months of August and September we conduct a survey of our oblate community members to gauge their interests, priorities, suggestions, and concerns. Having a monk come to make a presentation is one of the most important things to those who come to our meetings. We recognize the sacrifice it is to spare a monk the time to prepare and come to our meeting. We understand it is not always possible. We have added a meeting or two and have had some wonderful presentations from our community members. We are so blessed to have so many articulate, knowledgeable, and spiritual members, but the surveys we get back show that members want to hear directly from the monks. It means a very great deal to have this privilege when it is possible.
Is there a part of the Rule of St. Benedict that best reflects the Bloomington Oblate Chapter? What is it and why?
There are several that would apply. Some of our new oblates are so enthusiastic and eager to serve that they often over-stretch themselves and Chapter 72, “The Good Zeal of Monks” would apply. It says, “Just as there is a wicked zeal of bitterness which separates from God and leads to hell, so there is a good zeal which monks must foster with fervent love: They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other … and earnestly competing in obedience to one another.” In their joy and
eagerness to serve, they show “pure love of brothers; to God, loving fear; to their abbot, unfeigned and humble love.” Many also ask for opportunities to volunteer or offer their gifts to the community on the Hill.
The second that comes to mind is Chapter 7, verse 35 where it says, “The fourth step of humility is that in the obedience under difficult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape.” We are not perfect and have our issues as a group. Like many groups, there are those that jump in and lend a hand and others that like to participate in the dinner but are not able to take on any commitments. We have a very active parish with many activities to be involved in. Many who are attracted to being an oblate are already heavily committed to several other groups and are hesitant to commit to something else. So, in humility we do recognize this is a lifetime practice and it will not be for everyone. It is a calling. We trust that if we reach out in love to the world around us, those seeking a closer walk with God will be led to join us.
A HISTORY OF THE RULE:
ITS TEXT AND TRANSLATIONS
Though written around 530, the Rule of St. Benedict for almost 300 years is but one among some 25 monastic rules. People recognize its value and begin to copy it. The oldest extant copy, an English manuscript called Hatton 48, dates from the early eighth century.
Charlemagne, king from 768 to 814, unifies his kingdom around standard documents in law, liturgy, music, etc. He has the monks of Monte Cassino make him a copy of Benedict’s autograph and send it to Aachen. Monks from Reichenau make a copy that survives in the great Library of St. Gall as the best copy. The Synod of Aachen (816-819) decrees that the Rule of St. Benedict will be the only rule for all monastic communities.
While they accept this decision, their living tradition is much broader than what Benedict conceived. Carolingian monasteries have schools that train officials for the empire. Monks also serve the government, society, and the broader Church in various roles. Monasteries integrate the people of their neighborhoods into their work. As a result, monasteries adapt the Rule of St. Benedict to an already existing and vibrant tradition. Monks attempt to live the Rule more literally only with the Cistercian reform in the early 1100s. To do that, the Cistercians create a second group of monks, the lay brothers, who take care of the practicalities while the choir monks give themselves to prayer.
Gregory the Great wrote the only existing life of Benedict in the second book of his Dialogues. It includes a meeting between Benedict and his sister Scholastica, who was also part of a monastic community of women. She famously prayed for a thunderstorm to prevent Benedict from returning to his monastery so that they spend a last night in holy conversation. Many women have lived and continue to live the monastic life shaped by this Rule In the Middle Ages, they created feminine versions of the Rule of St. Benedict for themselves, and their life produced great saints such as St. Hilda, St. Hildegard, and St. Gertrude the Great, among others.
The suppression of monasteries in England and later in northern Europe broke the tradition, but it also brought about new foundations and a rethinking of monastic life and practice. Since Vatican II, Benedictine women, led by Joan Chittister, OSB, and Mary Collins, OSB, among others, have worked to give monastic life a new and broader vitality.
The 20th century also produced important monastic scholars: Adalbert de Vogüé, OSB, Aquinata Böckmann, OSB, Terrence Kardong, OSB, and Michael Casey, OCSO, among others. This translation stands on their modern scholarship.
Other modern translations exist. Those from the 20th century, such as
Rule of St. Benedict 1980, offer the reader an idiomatic translation that speaks to the modern context. Recently, Judith Sutera, OSB, published a gender-neutral translation so that its many readers can hear an inviting voice. Each translation has its own value and audience.
This translation seeks a rather literal rendering of the Latin text that reflects its original cultural context. It preserves some Latin words, particularly conversatio. The early scribes replaced conversatio with conversio (conversion), but modern scholarship has restored the original word, which can mean the monastic way of life or the beginning of monastic life. To help readers recognize this key word, I have left it untranslated so that readers can make their own judgment. The same is true for lectio divina–divine reading. Where possible, the text uses the same word for the Latin so that the reader can recognize the continuity. Benedict was not a great Latin stylist, and the translation reflects that reality.
The Rule of St. Benedict has been a foundational document for western culture since Benedict and the time of Charlemagne. Today it undergirds communities throughout the whole world.
FR. HARRY HAGAN, OSB Monk of Saint Meinrad
Archabbey
SHARING YOUR GIFTS WITH OTHERS
We read in the letter of James, “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights.”
I believe this with all my heart. Anything I do that is good, any aspect of me that is good, is something my loving Creator has placed or developed in me. My problem is that there are moments when I want compliments from others because of my ability to do this or that. St. Paul wrote of the inner warfare he spotted in himself. I can see an inner warfare in myself too.
On one hand, I see myself as a confident person with a healthy self-
esteem, for which I am very grateful. On the other, when I wish for positive feedback, I question what is operating: my unwanted ego or a part of the humility that I seek and aim to live by?
When I was a new oblate, my spiritual director spoke with me about the concept of humility. He related that the word “humility” comes from “humus,” the earth, the ground. His point to me was that a fact about myself is not pride because it is a fact. For example, I am a good pianist. That is a fact.
I know that my best characteristics and any talents I have are gifts of
God. Also, I believe those gifts are given to me for use in the Body of Christ for service and sharing with others. A great part of my joy is in sharing my gifts with others so that joy is possibly spread. Then why do I struggle? It’s because my poorer self likes recognition.
God knows that my prayer is often for more change in me during my remaining years so my ego will get quieter and quieter.
Keep me on Your path, O God, where my biggest need is to be close to You.
DIANE RIVERA
Oblate
REMAINING ROOTED
Many people do not realize that when they see falling autumn leaves what they are witnessing is a tree fully animated, transforming itself for longer nights and colder days. In late summer, deciduous trees begin producing a hormone called abscisic acid that cuts nutrients to leaves and creates a little break point on the stems.
Later, the falling red and gold leaves allow the tree to pull back needed nutrients and hydration into its trunk and roots ensuring survival to spring. Losing all those leaves also helps trees open branches so that freezing winds do not sheer the tree of its beautiful form. Finally, since the tree remains well-fed during the coldest months, in spring it will immediately be ready to bud and commence new growth.
St. Benedict did a curious thing in writing the Rule. He followed his lengthy chapter on humility with details on how and when to pray. It seems prayer instructions should come
before humility, but not in his case. Further, in Chapters 8, 9, and 10, he shares these detailed prayer instructions with specific adaptions for summer prayer versus winter prayer.
We have electricity, but early Benedictines did not. In fact, it is very recent to human history that we have the ability to ignore the sun and the moon. We do not worry about having enough oil for our lamps, and we do not worry about nature’s constraints of making food from soil to plate. We can now easily read a book or find our way around hours after the sun goes down.
When we read St. Benedict’s adjusted daily prayer expectations based on the length of the light of day, it may seem to us he was caught up in unneeded minutiae. However, in his time the instructions were necessary.
Today, these instructions can serve as a needed spiritual reminder. As oblates, a change in our prayer life
during the darker months of autumn into winter may help us reclaim and center that which is truly life-giving. We are invited to honor the change of the season. Redirecting and refocusing our energy with daily Liturgy of the Hours, Lectio Divina, and the Rule, which can help us stay rooted.
Our modern technology helps us ignore seasons somewhat, but in truth we eventually notice the sun going down sooner and dawn appearing later. It makes our days feel short and adds to feeling hectic and overwrought at times.
There is wisdom in the leafy trees. They may appear stagnant during the colder months, yet they are actually thriving. There is wisdom in the Rule for all of us as well. St. Benedict believed we can still spend time in prayer in all seasons, and he believed adjustments for the changing seasons are acceptable. Finding new time and focusing on our roots as days get shorter is an active part of good growth.
DIANE FRANCES WALTER
GENUINE SELF-ESTEEM IS A SPIRITUAL PRACTICE
There’s a thin line between ego and self-esteem, so there’s good reason to think about their true meaning in a world where words get warped over time. In contemporary culture, ego has morphed into egotistical, while self-esteem sounds self-centered. But that wasn’t always the case. For starters ego is the Latin noun for “I,” meaning self-distinct from others. Self-esteem, also from Latin, is the verb aestimare, meaning to place value on the self. Simply put, ego is our identity and self-esteem our worth. Both words became popular parlance in early psychology.
It was Sigmund Freud who created a concept of the ego in his Iceberg Model of the Mind (1920). He saw the ego as the mediator between our unconscious instincts (id) and moral conscience (superego), striving to strike a balance for the sake of stability. William James coined the term self-esteem (1890) and defined it as “the feeling of self-worth that results from consistently meeting expectations for personally valued activities.” Abraham Maslow took selfesteem a step further placing it on his hierarchy of needs to reach our full human potential. Psychologists then and now see a healthy ego and sound esteem essential to mental health.
The Apostle Paul speaks to a healthy ego and sound self-esteem when writing to the Romans: “Don’t be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind … I say to everyone among you not to think more highly of themselves than they should, but to
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think so as to have sound judgement” (Romans 12:2-3). Paul didn’t deny the ego or denigrate self-worth. Instead, he called the Romans to reframe their thinking in the light of the risen Christ. Loosely translated he told them, “Don’t overthink and don’t under think.” Instead, be balanced because in Christ we are both sinners and saints. In fact, we are “new creations” (2 Corinthians 5:17) born of conversion not credentials. We are children of God, forgiven our sin, and graced with God’s gifts for the sake of service to others. Therefore, our aim is to “do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard another more important than ourselves” (Philippians 2:3). Unlike the world whose corporate ladder goes up, the Biblical text and Benedict’s ladder go down (RB:7). For that reason, Fr. Augustine Wetta, OSB, calls the Rule’s 7th chapter on humility “the 12-step guide to genuine self-esteem.”1
Humility is a tall order in a world that compares us to others coming up short. Instead of self-inflation, it can lead to self-rejection: “Over the years,” Fr. Henri Nouwen reflected, “I have come to realize that the greatest trap in our life is not success, popularity, or power, but self-rejection. Success, popularity, and power can indeed present a great temptation, but their seductive quality often comes from the way they are part of the much larger temptation to self-rejection. When we have come to believe in the voices that call us worthless … then success,
popularity, and power are perceived as attractive solutions.”2
How do we get in touch with sound self-esteem when we are surrounded by rejections? First, we have to keep unmasking the world’s lies. Every time you feel ghosted, overlooked, offended, or hurt, it’s a good practice to pause. Take a step back and remind yourself that feelings don’t define you. Look in the mirror and say to yourself: “These feelings though strong, may not be the truth about myself. I’m a child of God, beloved Christ and companioned by the Holy Spirit.
Second, it’s important to spend time in places with people who remind you of your deepest identity. Your church, parish, daily hours, group Lectio Divina, spiritual director, and 12-step program point us to your true identity. This truth isn’t only an inner conviction, but outward confirmation offered in others. That is why witnessing the stories of the saints whose words woe us back to the truth is wise.
Third, show gratitude through small acts done with great love. Go out of your way to thank God and others. Count three things out loud before going to bed and be thankful. Gratitude shifts the mind from a negative narrative that sabotages sound judgement, enabling us to see we are no accident but a divine choice. Get concrete and show gratitude with flowers, a card, phone call, or a letter.
Summarily, there is a thin line between ego and self-esteem. Seeing ourselves through God’s eyes not the world’s lies is deep spiritual practice.
Augustine Wetta, OSB. Humility Rules: Saint Benedict’s 12-Step Guide to Genuine Self-Esteem. (Ignatius Press: San Francisco, 2017)
Henri J. M. Nouwen. Life of the Beloved: spiritual living in a Secular World. (Crossroad Publishing: NY, 1992).
HUMBLE HEART AND THANKFULNESS LEAD TO HEALTHY SELF-IMAGE
I grew up in a large family with a father who was a teacher and a mother who was a nurse. I was surrounded by very strong-willed, self-confident, determined, and driven role models. It comes as no surprise I grew up a very independent, determined, strongwilled, stubborn, and confident young man with a very high opinion of himself and a can’t-fail mentality. Our yearly three-month summer camping travel adventures strengthened my independent, self-confident, and can’tfail personality while diminishing the need or desire for communal relationships. My strength came from confidence in my own abilities, abilities I created and nurtured. My self-image, ego, and faith in my own abilities, self-esteem, were very high and controlling. Evil, however, finds a way sometimes indirectly but most times directly into our lives. Its aftermath damages lives, ruins relationships, deflates egos, and corrupts self-image, self-confidence, and ultimately self-esteem. It cools the heart and darkens the soul. It leaves us as the prophet says about Israel, “In
those days there was no king in Israel; every man did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).
Looking back, I was about age ten when the free-willed, fun-loving, confident young man was transformed into the angry, secretive, stubborn, opinionated, strong-willed, independent wandering young man. I remained that way until early adulthood. Driven by a corrupted sense of purpose, ego, and self-esteem, by adulthood, God had become an unreliable solution and unreliable protector. As time passed my heart cooled, blocked by dark clouds, God’s light dimmed, and he became distant. I replaced God with a self-serving reliance on my abilities to protect myself and define my own destiny and path. Truthfully, I failed miserably.
I am not sure when I first read the poem “Footprints in the Sand,” but it’s God’s answer in the poem that haunted me. “He whispered, my precious child, I love you and will never leave you. Never, ever, during
your trials and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.” It would be a happy story if I read the poem, the clouds cleared, and I once again felt the love of God and his purpose for me appeared before my eyes and in my heart. But that’s not what happened. The Tao Te Ching teaches, “Shape clay into a vessel; it is the space within that makes it useful.” While God shaped my vessel, the inside had been corrupted. Evil does damage entering, residing, and leaving.
A healthy self-image, confidence in my God given abilities, and a strong will are important attributes. A humble heart and thankful appreciation of God’s graces are what eventually filled the space inside the vessel God created in his image. Refined by life’s experiences and tested by time, the baggage of the past was replaced by a renewed awareness and need for God’s love and a desire to share that love with others.
JOHN BROOKS
THE OBLATE HOME: THAT IN ALL
THINGS
GOD MAY BE GLORIFIED
All of us live with ideals; it is part of being a human person. We have a vision in our minds of what we think life should be like, what we want to achieve, what we desire family life to be. Sometimes these ideals are quite realistic; at other times, they are not. Life, however, would be almost meaningless if we had no vision, no goals, and no ideals for living.
Monastic life, whether it is lived in the context of a monastery or in the daily life of Benedictine oblates, is no different. As Christian men and women, we look to the Gospel to set the tone and pace for our daily living. Christ establishes the parameters of our lives by showing us His Way.
The Way of Christ is very concrete, that is to say, it is not merely a set of good ideas or values. The identity of the Christian is one that necessarily touches on every aspect of our living. Christian discipleship is manifested not only in the overtly “religious” components of our lives, but even in the mundane and the everyday.
Monastic men and women are, first and foremost, disciples of Jesus. As disciples of Jesus, we take seriously our task of being completely immersed in the Christian identity, of turning our entire lives increasingly over to God. The Rule of St. Benedict, which governs the lives of Benedictine men and women, is nothing but a practical guidebook of living our Christian lives in full.
Christian Identity
St. Benedict lived in an age not so different from our own. In the late fifth and early sixth centuries, there
was a great deal of social and cultural turmoil. The old order of the Roman Empire was passing away, and new forms of society and government were rushing in to fill the void. It was a time of upheaval, both public and personal. Time-honored customs and values were suddenly being called into question. Social, educational, and political institutions were in a state of disarray.
St. Benedict’s response to this turmoil was to demonstrate that the permanence of discipleship had the potential to supplant the disarray of the temporal order. The purpose of the Rule was the ordering of life in a time of disorder. It was also an ordering of the personal identity of the one who followed the Rule, setting an example in each individual for the good of the community. It was a rule of discipleship, a way of actualizing and realizing Christian living by way of a total commitment to Christ.
In our contemporary setting, a great deal of social and cultural confusion still prevails. We are confused about how we are to live our lives, and various and varying “ways of life” vie for our attention. In a complex and ever-changing social and cultural order, being a Christian can sometimes be relegated to an “aspect” of living. Christian identity can become one of several identities that any individual might live. Religion becomes a part of our lives, but not the governing principle of our lives.
St. Benedict cannot accept this kind of “spiritual schizophrenia”; rather, he insists that the Christian life, the way of discipleship, must completely govern our individual identities. The
identity of disciple governs all the aspects of our lives; it determines how we act in both great and small ways.
In other words, I must be a Christian first. Any other “identities” I may have must conform to this. To make this a reality, St. Benedict proposes that we fix our gaze on Christ alone, and in doing so, order every aspect of our lives, even the most minute, toward this goal. How does Benedict conceive this?
“That in all things God may be glorified.”
The famed injunction from the Rule of St. Benedict, in many ways, guides the ethos of monastic spirituality. The life of the Benedictine is the persistent attempt to find God in the most mundane activities and the most commonplace things. Dedicating each day to this relentless pursuit of the Divine One gives Benedictines their particular charism.
Monks have ways of realizing this idea. We have customaries, unique to each monastery, by which the Rule is realized in a purposeful way. Monasteries have particular customs, traditions, and ways of doing things that are less formalized. There is a spirit in each monastery, a degree of formality or informality, and a seriousness by which every action of the day is intent on the pursuit by which God may be glorified in all things.
Monks have a horarium that governs each aspect of the day. They have patterns of work and behavior and rituals (both formal and informal) that give life and structure to their pursuit.
They have particular ways of dressing and living arrangements that give witness to the importance of this central goal.
In other words, monastic communities have a material culture that supports and testifies to their values. This material culture is an outward sign of a central value. If in all things God must be glorified, this applies to “all things,” to everything the monk touches. Certainly, God must be glorified in my praise and worship, in the Opus Dei, the Liturgy of the Hours, Eucharist, and private prayer, but equally, God must be glorified in the more commonplace aspects of life.
The way we dress, the way we work, the way we eat, the design of our buildings, the decor of our rooms, the way we go about our day; are all equally ways of glorifying God. If God is to be glorified in all things, it is essential that we do not reduce the status of some things in our lives to not manifesting this ideal. In other words, if we only think that God should be glorified in prayer but not necessarily in dishwashing, we run the risk of assuming that God is not involved in the more commonplace aspects of our existence, that God is not totally present to us.
We likewise risk pigeonholing our discipleship in “religious” actions and relegating other aspects of our lives to the “secular” or the non-religious. If God is to be glorified in all things, then there is a Christian way to wash dishes, a Christian way to mop the floor, to change diapers, to eat dinner, to study, to engage in family life, to play. God is involved in all things, and the relentless task of finding God in all things underlies the spirituality of the monk. The Benedictine is just as interested in the vessels of the kitchen as the vessels of the altar.
Living Benedictine in the World
This is a very significant idea for monks. It means that our surroundings make a difference and are not incidental to the way we live. Oblates have a very particular quest. How is it possible to live the Rule outside the confines of a monastery? I think one of the problems of oblates is that of identity. Of course, this is a question for most people in our culture today. The oblate asks: “How can I be Benedictine in the world?”
For many, this has entailed a hyperspiritualization of the oblate way of life. We think that Benedictine identity is something I carry within myself. It orders my inner life. Of course, the ordering of the inner life is certainly important, but it is not authentically Benedictine if that internal ordering does not manifest itself in external practices.
Theologically, we can speak of Benedictine life as a full expression of the sacramental principle, that is, the reality of God is not only an internal reality but is equally and significantly manifested in external signs and actions. Maintenance of a particular way of life that has no material culture can be challenging to the point of frustration.
Of course, this is an important question for religious identity, in general, in our particular cultural situation at the beginning of the Third Millennium. Sociologists tell us that human beings need material culture and community to support their value systems. However, in our time, religious culture seems to have been systematically divesting itself of outmoded practices and identifying factors.
For example, Catholics were formerly very recognizable in terms of their practices and cultural identity. They
lived a certain way. They did certain things. Many of these practices were customs that may have since become outdated (e.g., certain devotional practices, head coverings, etc.). The question is: have they been replaced with newer and sounder practices and customs?
If the sociologists are right and people need cultural identifiers to give life to their particular identities, and if they do not find these identifiers in the religious culture, they may seek another cultural expression that has more of these particularities. We have seen this in many of our young people who desire desperately to be a part of a group and will go to strange, and sometimes even dangerous, lengths to find groups that have material qualifiers.
Signs of Oblate Identity
I believe what is needed among oblates is more material culture, more signs of their oblate identity. Oblates need to be shown concrete examples of how they can realize the ideals of Benedictine living every day in their homes. How does the Benedictine home look? How is it different from non-Benedictine homes? The external manifestations of religious identity are just as important for oblates as for monks who live in monasteries.
Another sign of oblate identity is ritual. Monks have rituals, formal and informal, that order their lives. Oblates need rituals, too, ways of concretely acknowledging the presence of God in the activities of daily life. Oblates need a book, a selection of concrete prayers and practices that they can use at home. The idea behind this ritual is that it provides a way of realizing the Benedictine ideal of the glorification of God in all things and at all times. The ritual provides guidelines for sanctification of the day and cultural practices in keeping with monastic
values and ideals in the particular situation of the oblate.
Home rituals might include rising prayers, dressing prayers, cooking and cleaning prayers. Simple rituals might be included for receiving guests, going on a journey, holding a family meeting, blessing grandchildren coming for a visit or returning home. Season rituals for Christmas, Thanksgiving, Memorial Day, Mother’s Day or Father’s Day might help the Benedictine family to more completely realize the close connection their everyday lives have with the divine life of God.
Life rituals for celebrating birth and other life passages might also be included. Rituals for oblate meetings, hospital visits, cemetery visits, and the Office of the Dead might complete a picture of ritual and material life that touches on every aspect of Christian existence, so that in all things God may be glorified.
The ritual might have a great variety of elements, and no oblate should feel obliged to practice them all or even find them all useful. Just as each monastery has its own customary, so each oblate home should use what is meaningful and helpful, establishing home customaries or oblate chapter customaries that suit their temperaments.
Rituals and customs developed in each Benedictine home give a material reality to daily living. They help to instill in us the primary value of seeing God active in everything.
The Home Oratory
St. Benedict writes that every monastery must have a place set aside for prayer. The same is certainly true in our homes as well. Creating a sacred and inviolable place in today’s home can, however, be something of a
challenge. Because of the demands of family living and the problem of too little space, having an entire room devoted to prayer may be impractical.
However, it is possible in every home to find a corner of a less-used room that might be dedicated to daily prayer and devotions. In such a removed place in the peacefulness of silence, family members may find a model of the inner quiet and space needed to converse with God. Here may be placed an important sacred image, icon, or statue. Candles or incense may be employed. A comfortable chair or cushion for kneeling may be nearby. Books, rosaries, or other items used for prayer might be kept here.
The oratory is the place where God’s presence is focused. God lives and breathes everywhere, and the oratory serves as a reminder of this reality. Equally important, however, must be the sanctification of every aspect of the home. Bedrooms, bathrooms, playrooms, and kitchens are also places for living the Christian life, for prayer and for authentic family fellowship. The continual reflection on home life and its meaning, what our daily living practices manifest in terms of our Christian identities, all of these things are part of realizing the ideal that in all things God may be glorified.
Where do we find God? The answer, of course, is everywhere. For Benedictines, this reality is necessarily shown in our external as well as our internal realities. All of our life and living is for Christ, uniting ourselves to our sisters and brothers in miraculous ways. God is certainly in Church, but we also draw close to God in countless, more subtle ways.
We draw close to God when the biting winds of first frosts slap our faces with their exhilarating proximity
and our energies are caught up in a swirl of brightly colored leaves as we stand in the shower of a ginkgo tree in pure amazement at the joy of being alive. That is Benedictine living.
We draw close to God when we build our families and our oblate community in countless subtle ways, when we disagree and then agree, when we hover over the bedside of dying relatives or friends and have no qualms at all about holding hands that are growing cold, when we welcome new family members with the joy of remembering first, awkward days. That is Benedictine living.
We draw close to God when we experience the pure joy of prayer when God is as close to us as breath, when the fire of the sanctuary lamp penetrates the darkness of our minds with its sheer brilliance and we become, in an instant, what we contemplate and then, all transfiguratively, it is gone but well remembered. This may take place in a chapel or in a car, but it is powerful nevertheless and that is Benedictine living.
We draw close to God when we celebrate at the altar of Christ’s body and blood, when we recognize Him in the breaking of the bread and He disappears into us, when the complex reality of His corporeality penetrates our form in the purity of love and our vision is transfixed and we see those around us for who they are, the living body of Christ. That is Benedictine living.
We draw close to God from day to day, from hour to hour, and moment to moment when we realize that God is more than our idols, more than our imaginings, more than our hopes, more than our opinions, more than our prejudices, more than our ideas, more than our dreams.
God touches our hearts and our homes. He is in our resting and our rising. He accompanies us in our daily living, our work, our education, our family. He is an intimate part of our
joys and sorrows. He is all in all and that is Benedictine living, a life in which God may be glorified in all things.
“The oratory (prayer space) ought to be what is called, and nothing else is to be done or stored there” (Rule of St. Benedict 52:1).
VERY REV. DENIS ROBINSON, OSB
President-Rector of
Saint Meinrad Seminary and School of Theology
OBLATE PROMISES: STABILITY OF HEART
Editor’s note: This is the first article in a three-part series.
The Benedictine tradition emphasizes stability, a concept deeply rooted in communal life. Stability, in this context, involves dedicating oneself to the community and its values rather than just staying in one physical location. It is a commitment to the community, its practices, and its spiritual journey. The term stability comes from the Latin word stare, which signifies qualities such as steadfastness, endurance, and stillness, all of which are essential in the Benedictine way of life.
St. Benedict, the founder of the Benedictine order, stressed the importance of stability and included it in the monastic vows. For
Benedictines, stability is a way to foster deep spiritual connections within the community, creating a sense of unity that transcends physical boundaries. It helps us avoid constantly seeking novelty and excitement, and instead, find fulfillment in the shared faith, respect, solidarity, and love that binds us together.
Moreover, stability in the Benedictine context is not just about the community, but also about nurturing one’s inner self. It leads to profound spiritual transformation and a better receptiveness to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. By committing to stability, oblates reaffirm the vows
made during baptism and uphold the significance of various sacraments in the Christian faith, experiencing personal growth and a deepening of their spiritual journey.
As oblates, choosing the Benedictine way of life means wholeheartedly integrating the tradition’s core values, such as responding to God’s call, embracing humility, and following the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This commitment not only connects us with a rich historical and traditional heritage but also offers us guidance along our spiritual path, reminding us that we are part of a legacy that has endured for centuries.
BR. MICHAEL REYES, OSB Oblate Director
THE OBLATES OF SAINT MEINRAD ARCHABBEY
EUROPEAN PILGRIMAGE
Hosted by Fr. Denis Robinson, OSB, Br. Michael Reyes, OSB, and Corinna Waggoner July 21-August 2, 2025 (13 days)
SWITZERLAND - GERMANY - AUSTRIA - SLOVAKIA - HUNGARY
