Obedience and RB 5 Again

We are in the midst of re-reading chapter 5 of the Rule of St Benedict, On Obedience. I have lost count of the number of times I have commented on this chapter. Even more often, I have reflected on its meaning in the particular circumstances in which I find myself. I cannot claim any special insights, but there is one thing that strikes me again and again: the way in which Benedict conceives of obedience as operating in both the vertical and the horizontal dimension, as it were. We listen to our superior and we listen to one another in the hope of hearing what God wishes to say to us. Sometimes, especially when I survey some of the more aggressive comments made on Social Media and the like, I wonder whether that concept of obedience is now completely alien to most people. We proclaim our own ‘truth’. We may — grudgingly or otherwise — acknowledge the right of others to proclaim their ‘truth’; but we see no reason to dialogue. The problem, as I see it, is that this makes truth (without quotes) subjective.

I am always slightly amused, slightly irritated by those who wish to set others right by  selective quotation from scripture or Church documents of one kind or another. That is easy but rarely effective because it ignores a basic human trait: we have to be persuaded of the truth, and we cannot leave out any stages of the argument. Monastic chapters can be, should be, tremendous occasions of grace as we speak the truth in love, less anxious to state our own view than we are to hear that of the other. That is why some of our chapters here in the monastery are notable for the very little speaking that is done. It is more important to us to ‘hear what the Spirit says to the Churches’ and that can only be done if we make a deliberate effort not to let our own clamour get in the way.

Today each of us will probably have an opportunity to express our opinion of this or that. Perhaps a moment or two’s silence, making a space for the Holy Spirit, so to say, would make our opinion much more worth hearing, much more an expression of God. And wouldn’t that be a good thing?


An Unfashionable Virtue: Obedience

Yesterday and today we have been reading St Benedict’s fifth chapter, on obedience. Its fine phrases have often been quoted on this blog, and I have spent most of my adult life trying to put it into practice. We vow our obedience in the monastery. At the heart of that vow is a perpetual listening to God that, far from narrowing our world, opens us up to endless possibilities. It is, we believe, a virtue to be obedient. But is is an unfashionable virtue. In the west we value our independence of thought and action and regard choosing to live by another’s judgement and authority (cf RB 5.12) as somehow immature. Even among Catholics you will find those who seem to know better than the Church!

I think part of the problem may lie in our inability to make the connection between our own obedience and Christ’s obedience to the Father. Canon Law protects us from the enormities of ‘blind obedience’ or any lazy attempt to shrug off personal responsibility by claiming ‘I was only doing what I was told.’ That is not obedience, although it is often mistaken for obedience. No, real obedience is hard work and exposes us to risk. It will change us, and most of us do not like being changed. Moreover, we cannot be sure we are always right any more because we are not the sole masters of our fate. God has a way of upsetting things. Even so, we can misunderstand; we can get it wrong. What we can’t do is play safe, refuse to act, refuse to listen. I have sometimes wondered whether, during those last few days before his Crucifixion, Christ did not ask himself whether he was doing the right thing, whether he had understood aright what the Father wanted. In Gethsemane those questions came to the fore and could only be answered with ‘Let your will, not mine, be done.’

Very few of us ever seem to reach the point where, heart and soul, we can say, ‘Let your will, not mine be done.’ We try, yes we try. We make huge sacrifices, bear terrible things as uncomplainingly as possible, but it is only with our last breath that we can be sure that our obedience is complete. That is one reason why we pray daily for the grace of a good death. Not necessarily a good death as many understand it, a death free fom pain and surrounded by those who love us, but a death that truly completes our life, that allows us to say, ‘I have heard, and I have obeyed.’