Tag Archives: new monasticism
Chapter 67: brothers sent on a journey
On the day of their return, they should prostrate themselves at the completion of each Hour of the Divine Office and ask the prayers of the entire community for any sins they may have committed by seeing or hearing evil, or by idle chatter.
Why not travel?
I have been reflecting on the different types of monks this week due in part to my reading of The Conferences of Cassian. In Conference 18, Cassian hears from Abba Piamun of the three types of monks that have developed over the monastic tradition. It is clear from reading this document that St. Benedict took much from the wisdom of the Fathers and used their work to construct his Rule.
Abba Piamun names the types of monks as cenobites (coenobites), hermits and Sarabaites. Cenobites are ‘monks living in a community under the government of a single elder.’ Hermits are ‘men who have first been trained in communities to the life of virtue and have then chosen to live a completely hidden and solitary life.’ Sarabaites, however, do not come out well.
The third, and culpable, kind is the Sarabaites… They are descended from Ananias and Sapphira. They do not follow the perfect way: they prefer to pretend to follow it. No doubt they want to be rivals of, and to gain the kind of credit given to, people who choose Christ’s utter poverty above all the riches of the world. They pursue true goodness feebly. They must needs become monks in order to gain the repute of monks, but they make no effort to follow their discipline, disregard the rules of the communities, are outside all control from the elders, fail to use the elders’ traditions to conquer their self-will. They… go on living in their homes just as before, carrying on the same work; or they build cells for themselves, call them ‘monasteries’ and live in them as they please… Shirking the austere rule of a community: living two or three together in a cell; under no direction: aiming above all else at having freedom from the elders, of going where they like, and of satisfying whatever passion they like – they are more busied about the necessities of life day and night than are coenobites. (Cassian, The Conferences of Cassian, “Conference 18: Conference of Abba Piamun on the three sorts of monks”, Owen Chadwick (trans.), Library of Christian Classics Volume XII: Western Asceticism (London: SCM Press, 1958) p.268-269)
And that is an abridged version!
St. Benedict’s treatment of the Sarabaites gives the same cutting critique.
…unschooled by any rule, untested, as gold is by fire, but soft as lead, living in and of the world… They live together in twos or threes, more often alone, without a shepherd in their own fold, not the Lord’s. Their only law is the pleasure of their desires, and whatever they wish or choose they call holy. They consider whatever they dislike unlawful. (St Benedict, Anthony C. Meisel and M. L. del Mastro (trans.), The Rule of St Benedict, “Chapter 1:the different kinds of monks and their customs” (New York: Doubleday, 1975) p.47)
Critics of the New Monastic Movement are right in holding these excerpts as a mirror on those of us who are exploring this emerging vocation. We who are undertaking a discernment to what God might be doing within his Church must take these dangers seriously and face up to the wisdom found within them.
St. Benedict also describes a fourth kind of monk: the gyratory monks.
All their lives they wander in different countries staying in various monasteries for three or four days at a time. They are restless, servants to the seduction of their own will and appetites, and are much worse in all things than the Sarabaites. (Ibid.)
The distinction, it seems, between Sarabaites and gyratory monks is the travelling. They move around and don’t remain in a place for long. They are nomads with no security from which to grow. It is in the light of this view that St. Benedict gives such a strict view on monks leaving the monastery at any moment or whim.
St. Benedict does not refuse travel but it must be necessary and even then, it is carefully managed by the abbot and community. Outside the monastery is seen as a barren place which is dangerous terrain to walk in. Monks should seek to return quickly and settle back into monastic life.
Reflection
It is for the above reasons that the New Monastic Movement has adopted a model based more friars rather than monks. The friars, or mendicants, adopt a lifestyle of poverty, travelling, and living in urban areas preaching, evangelisation and ministry, especially to the poor. The mendicant orders have a Rule and an abbot figure called by various names depending on the different orders. The mendicants were released from the traditional interpretation of the Benedictine vow to stability giving them freedom to roam and preach where need is found.
I find myself caught between the monastic and the mendicant.
I am passionate about preaching good news to all who I meet. I want to see transformation in people’s lives brought about by a relationship with the living Lord. I want to see the Church equipped for the mission of co-labouring with God and seeing the Kingdom of God established amongst us. this life is one of journeying and going, meeting people where they are and dwelling with them.
I also feel, however, a deep yearning to remain rooted. I have spoken recently about this vision of a mountain goat being built for rough terrain and yet having a deep need for ‘home’. I am one who needs a tent/dwelling in the wilderness. Although I want to go out and work for the gospel I also need, in order to sustain myself, a stability in my life.
It is in the tension of these two calls that I find myself crying out to God to reveal to me, perhaps a new order that is a balancing of the monastic and the mendicant. I deep sense of a movement that has a deep understanding of the Christian as ‘tent-dweller’, both rooted and stable and yet nomadic.
The emergence of urban centers meant concentrated numbers of the homeless and the sick. This created problems for the parish churches who found themselves unable to address these issues. In response to this crisis, there emerged the new mendicant orders founded by Francis of Assisi (c.1181-1226) and Dominic of Guzmán (c.1170-1234).(“The Mendicant Orders”, University of Saint Thomas–Saint Paul, Minnesota, 2003, http://courseweb.stthomas.edu/medieval/francis/mendicant.htm)
It is as I come to the end of my reflections on the Rule of St. Benedict that I discover a ‘monastic’ response to crises felt within the parish system. This is not to say that the reflections on the Benedictine Rule has been wasted, in fact I feel that the New Monastic Movement may be becoming a potential answer to my personal questions in a blending of the mendicant and monastic. It is this reconciling of the two which, I feel, is the unique charism for our time and this movement. This is the new thing that is emerging amongst us in the Western Church. From both these ends of the spectrum we can learn and discover the balance we seek.
These conversations between those who are more mendicant in their vision and vocation and those who are more Benedictine will be rife with misunderstandings and divisions of purpose but I feel that if we can remain faithful to one another, there is a space that is evolving where all can serve together. These conversations must be done with the utmost prayer and sensitivity of the Spirit. There must be a deep commitment throughout the discernment and conversations to faithfulness, inner change/conversion and obedience to the Lord who directs and guides us. Over the next few years I desire to see the New Monastic Movement come together from the different backgrounds and shapes and dedicate themselves to prayer, study and mission and seek to find the commonality which will unite us and see Lord bless and heal our world.
Holy God, who calls all things into oneness yet holds difference within, bring forth from amongst your people a vision for the future of discipleship and mission. May we discern from the movement of your Holy Spirit how you are redeeming and healing the brokenness of your Church to grow in the likeness and obedience to Jesus Christ our Lord.
Come, Lord Jesus
Where Next?
Suscipiendus autem in oratorio coram omnibus promittat de stabilitate sua et conversatione morum suorum et oboedientia.
Upon admission, in the oratory, before all, he is to make a promise to stability, conversion (of behaviour/morals/life) and obedience,
I have been joined, as I have journeyed through the Rule of St Benedict, by increasing numbers of companions whose path happens to meet with mine and/or mine with theirs. Some of them have made commitments to particular monastic houses in different traditions, others are parish ministers who seek deeper community and discipleship within that service and others are those exploring what has come to be known as ‘New Monastic’ communities.
The New Monastic movement in Britain is a loose collection of groups who have identified a desire for more intentional community than that which is offered through traditional forms of church gathering. There is no stringent entry policy to this ‘network’/movement; it is better seen as an association. Even when a group identifies themselves in the category of ‘new monasticism’ it doesn’t bind you to another group who have also chosen to name themselves as such. In this way the movement remains self governing and flexible.
It works… sort of.
Accountability is covered for most of these groups through independent means but is not enforceable. Communities should seek to have an outsider to oversee or converse with the community to ensure safeguarding of its members and that relationships remain healthy as the group grows and evolves together. These relationships are based on trust and so the selection of a spiritual companion for a community can be a risky one.
The connection between individual groups and communities is a free choice. A group can, if they choose, be independent and get on with doing what they’re doing and being what they’re being without interaction with another group (many do). This choice, however, can lead to a sense of isolation and/or blind egotism, not to mention the spending of energy re-inventing of the metaphorical wheel! Many want to learn from others and become acutely aware of the challenges that face intentional community. At these times they reach out and discover the joy of journeying with others who share something of what they are living through.
Again, these relationships between groups/communities are self-selecting and so carry with them potential dangers. The concern I have is that of the blind leading the blind when there are communities that, although still learning and emerging, have journeyed terrain before and so can steer with wisdom and experience.
At the heart of my concern around the New Monastic movement is that we want to remain connected with the world in some areas of our life but not in others and we want to remain in control and choose the sacrifices and changes we experience. The sacrifice of the community is self selecting to suit our individual needs and what we think is right for us. Are we falling short of the ultimate hurdle which distinguishes a normal life and the monastic life? Does New Monasticism encourage people to remain individualistic consumers whilst giving the impression that we’re living radically different lifestyles? Do we just want to be different?
I’m more than aware that we all have unique vocations due to what God wants of us in our different contexts, with our personalities and experiences. Some of us are ready and blessed to be called to traditional monastic life in the different traditions. Some of us are called to that way of life but find ourselves in families and relationships which also seem to be permanent. Some of us are called to ordained ministry and some form of more intentional life. There seems to be several different shapes and models emerging all naming themselves something slightly different in order to distinguish themselves. ‘Missional Communities’, ‘Hubs’, ‘Home Groups’, ‘Organic Communities’, ‘Parish Monasticism’, ‘New Monasticism’, or any other unique name for a group who have a particular shape and call on its members. Some would say,
It works… sort of.
Discipleship and mission must be contextual. Where you find yourself must impact how you live out your faith and mission. The Holy Spirit calls us to particular tasks at particular times in particular places but the source of strength and call must remain fixed in the same God. Although the expression of faith has adapted to different cultures and language the faith remains steadfast. It is the tension between the rootedness of tradition and the fresh expressions of faith and mission which keeps a sense of life. A balanced life is one lived in tension.
I am an advocate of uniting all these different expressions of discipleship and community and I know that many others disagree. I can see that there may be some who feel uncomfortable ‘pinning down’ or ‘fencing in’ these exciting, new discoveries. ‘Organic’ and ‘adaptable’ keeps the thing streamlined and efficient, able to move to new places but I am extremely cautious about this view. It strikes me that there’s an addiction to novelty and being different. Maybe I’m being too cynical but is there not still an ‘attractional’ mindset underneath this approach to move with the times and the people we want to connect and bring into the group/community?
I agree that the Spirit blows where it will and the Church has suffered by its slowness to catch up with God. I agree that definition can exclude some who might have otherwise moved further in if they were encouraged to, or rather if they were not discouraged by boundaries. I agree that most communities who identify with this ‘monastic’ call, whatever that means for them, remain fragile and embryonic. And I totally agree that the reason traditional church doesn’t work for increasing numbers of people is because of our culture’s anxiety, fear and disapproval of institution.
It still comes down, for me, however, to a desperate need for the gospel to challenge individualistic consumer culture and not collude with it. Structure and framework is needed for a sense of security and refuge. It is not sustainable to constantly live in uncertainty, risk and vulnerability; we need shelter, even if it is just a tent which is moveable.
This is why I have found reflecting on the use of tents in the Bible encouraging. Tents give people a resting place in a landscape of wilderness. Tents are used as ‘home’ when you are being called to be nomadic. Tents give you the space to feel safe when the rest of your life is danger and risk. Paul uses this image to describe our earthly bodies on earth and to encourage us to see ourselves as belonging to another place.
I have shared before this prophetic picture someone once saw for me of a mountain goat living in rocky terrain, barren and wild. The words that accompanied that picture were, “You were built for this terrain.” I often find myself in spiritual wilderness, barrenness. I find myself in conflict and rough seas. When I do find a settled place, a place of comfort, I get uncomfortable. I thrive in the wild but even I need times of peace and rest. I survive but in a different way to how the sheep of the green pasture survive down in the valley.
I was reading Psalm 104 last week and then a verse sprang out as an encouragement for me,
The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the coneys. (Psalm 104:18)
What struck me was I was built for one context which is not shared for others but I still need refuge and places to recuperate. Graham Cray, ex-bishop of Fresh Expressions UK, when I shared this picture with him told me to hold onto the monastic practices to sustain that call to those contexts.
The Church is in exile; divorced from mainstream culture. The passionate discussions over calling the last Fresh Expressions’ Conference ‘From Margins to Mainstream’ focussed many people’s concern on where do we want to see ourselves. Some like being margin, periphery dwellers, others like to be anywhere but ‘boring mainstreamers’, some like the comfort of the known and others are anxious but uncertainty. Whatever is mainstream for one is margin for another; it depends on where you’re standing and how you see yourself.
I am one who finds himself, more often than not, in isolated viewpoints. I don’t fit. This always runs dangerously close to my obsession with being different and contrary and I am on constant watch to not fall into that trap. I know that is part of where God must hold me close and is part of my spiritual practices.
Rules of life are meant to be way markers not straight-jackets. I have explored different rules of life and studied the charisms of different communities what fascinates me and excites me is that despite being different they share similar central calls; they name them different things but they’re essentially the same. I’m talking about principles or virtues they live by not the practices they perform. Ian Mobsby and the Moot Community named these principles, ‘postures’.
I wonder what might happen if we acknowledged together, a sense that the monastic call is commitment to ‘stability, conversion and obedience’ (words used by St Benedict in chapter 58 of his Rule)? Some may want to interpret them as the traditional vows of ‘chastity, poverty and obedience’ but I see them as interchangeable.
Stability
A desire to remain rooted somewhere or with someone; no matter what the spiritual weather is like, no matter what temptations afflict you, you stay and remain faithful.
Conversion
A desire to change, to turn away, step by step, from the things of this world to the Kingdom of God. To seek, in different circumstances and in different ways, to become more and more Christ-like, poor and dependant on God.
Obedience
A desire to place yourself under the decisions of something or someone else. To seek to curb that deeply human temptation to be in control of ourselves and our decisions; to hold onto the power in or own lives.
Over the next few weeks I want to develop this motif and offer some potential suggestions how, in different contexts, disciples can adopt these three shared vows whilst remaining contextual and flexible in practice.
Chapter 63: rank in the monastery
The brothers will rank in order, depending upon the date of their entrance, the merit of their lives or the order of the abbot.
Where does power lie?
You don’t have to look far in the archives of my five years of blogging to learn I am egalitarian. I wrote my dissertation on establishing non-hierarchical communities of faith based on the principles of ensemble theatre practice. What egalitarian communities look like depends on the reasons why you want equality and what equality means. I have also written a lot about the term ‘equality’ and I have challenged the popular contemporary definition or understanding of this term. This could confuse many (it confuses me sometimes!)
I want to focus a little more on how non-hierarchical structures are created and how they work.
St Benedict is an orderly man; you can feel that throughout his Rule. It is very popular to be cynical and against order in society. This is expressed in semi-anarchist movements such as the Occupy Movement and Anonymous. I’m not totally against such movements, indeed I agree with the sentiment at the heart of them. My challenge to them, if I were to be so bold, would be to what end? How do such philosophies create a safe, secure society which encourages the well-being and stability to life for it’s people? Power is always present in any social dynamic and to deny that is dangerous; it’s not necessarily just about who holds the power but really about how it is held.
In most societies and groupings power forces people into a hierarchy: those with more are seen as over and above those that do not.
Egalitarians seek to change that thinking, some by taking power from those that have and give them to those that don’t. This, however, only flips the hierarchy and those that didn’t now do and those that did now don’t… the oppressed become the oppressors and so the cycle begins. You can see this in many ‘equality movements’. In order to re-address the balance of power those that have held power, e.g. men, are denied dignity and are shamed into handing power over to the oppressed, e.g. women, until the balance is found. This is a dangerous way of doing things as it is violent in nature. There is a temptation to unconsciously communicate a “this is what it feels like’ message in the re-addressing of power.
Peace and reconciliation is about taking the sting out of power. Power-sharing is a narrow and treacherous path to walk. Power is a dangerous weapon to carry and must be handled with great care. We must see it as the one true ring of Middle Earth that requires a fellowship to carry it safely in order to destroy it. Power must be shared before it takes root in one person and oppresses them and then those around it.
I have been reflecting a lot recently on reconciliation and how it can be discovered. For me it is about discovering the joy and power of collaboration. The journey to collaboration must pass through the difficult destination of ‘ego-death’. This, for me, is at the heart of the healing humanity needs, both individually and collectively. It is why the cross is the central point of our salvation. The cross is the singular sign of ‘ego-death’. There can be no healing, no reconciliation, no healthy relationships without the complete annihilation of our egos and God has walked it ahead of us.
This is the challenge that Jeremy Corbyn has to enter into if his vision for a ‘new politics’ is to be achieved. I’m not totally sure he’s up to the task but I’m willing to try and, in his wake, see many others follow through. I am, personally, excited about what he has begun but trying to lead a people so adversed to the painful walk of ‘ego-death’ will be nearly impossible. The reason I have reservations is that he has yet given a good enough reason to people as to why they should go through this painful procedure. With any healing, the patient must understand the risks of not having it as well as to having it.
My wife has recently had an assessment for a lung transplant. This procedure is dangerous with many risks involved. It is overwhelmingly scary to consider all the pain, the cost and the turmoil it could bring upon us. I found myself asking,
Why would we want to do that?
Well, the alternative of not doing anything is guaranteed to be worse (for me at least because Sarah will get to be with Jesus sooner!) The transplant seen in this way is the necessary healing.
I know that our society is crying out for equality and this healing from hierarchy but I fear the obvious path towards it will not solve the problem but by-pass the most needed part of the process: ‘ego-death’. I have spoken many times of distress of the process that brought about same-sex marriage. I have spoken of my deep concern for the way in which people try to achieve gender equality. I have written too much on how broken our processes are for achieving real change in a situation and it all revolves around the lack of ego-death, or rather it is focussed too much on ‘others’ dying to their ego whilst I remain unchanged, unchallenged.
St Benedict’s Rule looks at arbitrary measurements of seniority: whoever’s been here the longest is valued the most. This is not about age but is based on an understanding that the person who has lived the central principles of humility and obedience will have transformed the most. It is the monks who have been engaged in the killing of their egos that are given the power because they know the dangers of it better than any.
I had the privilege of listening to Jean Vanier being interviewed at the New Parish Conference in Birmingham this weekend. He was asked,
If you were given a magic wand that could stop the church doing one thing and make the Church do something more, what would you take away and what would you make happen?
Immediately he responded,
I would get rid of the magic wand!
That is what St Benedict is proposing; putting men like Jean Vanier who has been slaying his ego for the most amount of time being given responsibility for the power. It is these people who understand the danger who should be entrusted with the job of walking the painful journey to destroy the sting of power.
Reflection
Leaders of the local parish should be judged not by their qualifications but by their maturity of faith. At the centre of every neighbourhood should be the person who has slain their ego the most. The one who has been committed to humility and obedience for extended period of times. It is the one who has walked that journey down the narrow and treacherous path of inner reconciliation that should guide others into the same terrain.
This is where the monastic charism is so important in parish ministry. At the heart of all monastic calls is the commitment to humility and obedience that leads to ‘ego-death’. This is why the New Monastic Movement resonates with exile language so much because they inhabit the terrain of wilderness and have learnt to thrive in that post death world.
I often write a prayer that directs my reflections back to God. This time I want to use a liturgical response from Common Prayer’s Evening Prayer on Thursday.
May our minds be like that of Christ Jesus,
Who, though he was in the form of God,
Did not regard equality with God
As something to be exploited,
But emptied himself,
Taking the form of a slave,
Being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
He humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death,
Even death on a cross.
Therefore, God also highly exalted him
And gave him the name that is above every name,
So that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend,
In heaven and on earth and under the earth,
And every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
To the glory of God the Father. Amen.
Come, Lord Jesus.
Parish Monasticism: a review
Suscipe me, Domine, secundum eloquium tuum, et vivam; et non confundas me ab expectatione mea.
Receive me, O Lord, according to your word, and I shall live: and let me not be ashamed of my hope.
I am keen to pause before reflecting on the next chapter to note that I have fallen behind in writing my reflections one chapter each week; life just gets in the way sometimes! I will get on to specifics in a moment. Before I do I want to say I remain prayerfully engaged with The Rule of St. Benedict and continue to read and reflect on each chapter in order. What I mean is I am not jumping ahead and planning future weeks. I’m writing as I read. This means that sometimes I misunderstand portions of the text. I have been keen that these reflections are a documentation of learning. I hope that they are helpful to you (please do encourage me with what God has been saying to you as you have read the Rule and shared parts of my own journey).
The part of life that has got in the way over recent months is the ongoing process of discernment as to God’s call on my life. I have returned to a deep sense of vocation to some form of ‘monastic’ life and what that might look like for my wife and I. Clearly being married means that I cannot enter into traditional vows in an established monastic house. I have chosen to take the exclusive vows of marriage (for which I’m grateful) and this means that I can’t also take the vows of monastic orders. I am also committed to the Church of England and feel a call to minister as a priest in it*. This is why I chose, at the beginning of this year, to set aside time to reflect on my unique set of callings that make up my vocation as a disciple of Jesus Christ. This exercise has been a great blessing.
It is clear to me, after much prayer, study and dialogue that Sarah (my wife) and my future lies in the New Monastic movement of the Church. We see that this does not conflict with our sense of calling to the Church of England and to married/family life. In fact it is the call to ‘family’ life that strengthens our sense of calling to the monastic way of life.
Due to Sarah’s health we are unable to have children and it has proven difficult (if not impossible) at this time to go through the official channels of adoption. How do we understand our marriage without the ability to bear children? I am sensing that our call to raising children through extended family ensures an integrity to our marriage as a ‘social office’. We are deeply blessed by the children we have had the honour of walking with for seasons in our roles as uncle/aunt and as ‘godparents’. We love to be an active part in the raising of children, even though we have not been blessed with ones that share our own genetics.
Through my reflections I have become increasingly aware that, although the parish church should be more monastic, it currently is not and nor is it understood as such in any practical way. During the establishment of the Church of England, however, there was a desire for this to be so.
…the reforming vision for parish churches at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries saw the local church as the new accessible local monastery, as the locus for monastic prayers and worship. (Ian Mobsby and Mark Berry, A New Monastic Handbook: from vision to practice (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2014) p.14)
In my current position as Assistant Curate I am in no position to move forward in exploring the potential for a parish church to be a form of monastery. I also struggle to see how possible it would be to explore this vision within the context of a ‘normal’ parish. This call to a form of monastic life, I feel, fits, more realistically, in a para-parish ministry, separate from but connected to the parish system. I think there are large opportunities within the Deanery in which I serve to explore the possibility of such a New Monastic community being established which would deeply strengthen the ministry of the Church in the city. This would require a creative re-imagining of what is possible and beneficial within the current structures of the Church of England but I feel there is strong precedent by pioneers who have taken this journey before us. I think particularly of my brother and sister in Christ, Rev. Ian Mobsby and Rev. Sam Foster.
I have taken a great deal of time in prayer and sort the counsel of elders and friends and feel that the Lord is calling Sarah and I, in the near future, to move on our calling. This will need the blessing of those in authority over me and I will be seeking their wisdom on this matter. I am very aware of timing and there is a danger that I am motivated, in part, by youthful impatience. I have considered this at great length and remain convinced that the time is now for York to begin a process of exploration into this and I’d be interested in being involved.
Please pray for me and Sarah and those who have gathered around us with a similar sense of calling at this time. Please listen to God for His will for us and I encourage you to share words of wisdom with us.
*I am aware also of my vows to the Office of Deacon and this is encompassed into my priestly functions whilst remaining distinct.
Chapter 16: the Day Office
The prophet says: “Seven times daily I have sung your praises… I arose at midnight to confess to You.”
Why prayer?
There seems to me to be a distinction in ministry between those who are apostolic and those who are monastic. These two distinctions traditionally make up the balance of the Church’s mission in the world; ‘to go and tell the world’ and ‘to watch and pray’. These two calls on the Church make up the heart of the New Monastic Movement, ‘contemplative action’. The Northumbria Community speak of this as their call to being ‘Alone Together’.
As a Community we’ve always understood the need to balance ‘a prayer that is quiet and contemplative with a faith that is active and contagious’, in expressing our way for living.
St. Benedict, in this chapter, gives reasons for the Divine Offices by quoting Psalm 118 (119),
I arose at midnight to confess to you… Seven times a day have I sung your praises.
Therefore, in Benedictine communities, they pray at eight set times a day: Matins (midnight) and then, Lauds (before sunrise), Prime (6am), Terce (9am), Sext (midday), None (3pm), Vespers (evening/6pm) and Compline (bedtime/9pm). This rigorous pattern of prayer just emphasises again the centrality of the call of such monastic communities to prayer and contemplation. Thomas Merton finishes off his wonderful book ‘Contemplative Prayer’ with these words,
Without contemplation and interior prayer the Church cannot fulfil her mission to transform and save mankind. Without contemplation, she will be reduced to being servant of cynical and worldly powers, no matter how hard her faithful may protest that they are fighting for the Kingdom of God. (Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (London: Darton, Longmann and Todd, 2010) p.144)
I quote Merton here because in this book and his other work ‘Seeds of Contemplation’, dedicated to the practice of contemplation, he continually links it to the mission and practical action of the Church in society. For this spiritual writer, famed for his call to the hermitage, the life of a monastic is intrinsically linked to the missional and apostolic work of the Body of Christ. Without one you cannot have the other.
Monastic Apostles/Apostolic Monks
Monastic comes from the Greek word, monastikos (from the root: monos – alone). Monastikos means ‘to live alone’ and was used to describe the hermits and Desert Fathers and Mothers of the early Church. These hermits became teachers of this solitary life and gathered around them a community of ‘novices’. This, over time became the basis and foundations of the monastic communities we see across the world. All of them owe their tradition to St. Anthony and the many other Desert Fathers and Mothers (Abbas and Ammas) who went out from society to dedicate their life to communion with God without any distractions of life. The monastic call, therefore, is to the dedication to watch and pray.
The apostolic call, I would suggest, is to take on the Great Commission given by Christ at his ascension,
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. (Matthew 28:19-20a)
Apostolic comes from the Greek word, apostolikos (from the roots: apo – away from and stello – to place, set in order). Apostolikos means ‘to send away’ or ‘to be sent’ and was used to describe those whom Jesus sent to witness to his Kingdom and Resurrection in the Gospels. These Apostles also became teachers and in Acts it is said that the Church,
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. (Acts 2:42)
It is useful, at this point, to draw our attention to a story in Mark’s gospel which illustrates this balance between being alone with God in contemplation and reflection and to be sent out to do his work in mission.
Starting at Mark 6:6b we read,
Then he went about among the villages teaching. He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. He said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.
They become ‘apostles’, sent out to build and spread the Kingdom. Then, after the death of John the Baptist, we meet the ‘apostles’ again.
The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves.
Now they are being called to be alone, solitary, in a deserted place; they become ‘monastics’, alone with Jesus. But the story does not finish there.
Now many saw them going and recognised them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd; and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things. When it grew late, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat.” But he answered them, “You give them something to eat.”
The disciples, wanting to be alone with Jesus see the need of the society in which they find themselves and they want to remain faithful to that monastic call so they ask to send the crowd away. Jesus, however, calls them to enter again into ministry and give them food. They don’t achieve that much needed ‘monastic’ time.
After the crowd are feed and Jesus reveals the Kingdom of God amongst them, he dismisses the disciples to a remote place and he himself goes to be alone with God.
The Divine offices in the monastic community are to remind the members to pray throughout the day. It is to call them back to their specific call to prayer and contemplation but, as we shall see later this year the community is not to disregard the call to mission and action. I am aware now that, St. Benedict has structured his Rule like that of a house; he begins with the foundations of character (humility and obedience), then comes the basis of prayer and contemplation, after which we shall explore community and relationships, then we look at the place of work.
Reflection
It seems that there is a need for both the monastic and the apostolic
Like all personal and specific calls from God to a particular ministry, we must be careful to hold them within the context of the wider call of all disciples. It is not right, although many preach this approach, to ‘specialise’ in a ministry to the detriment to the call to the basics of all disciples. For those of us who are more inclined to the prayerful contemplation, we must remind ourselves that to be transformed into the likeness of Christ is to be missional; sent people. For those of us who are more inclined to the evangelistic action, we must remind ourselves that to be transformed into the likeness of Christ is to be prayerful; alone with God.
Although I feel a strong call to the monastic life, I am also aware of the apostolic charge given to me by God. We are all to witness to the resurrection in our lives, to help all people that we meet to encounter the risen Lord. None are exempt from this work! The Kingdom of God is a collaboration between Christ and his bride, the Church, that is all of us who are baptised into his Body. Likewise non of us are exempt from the call to watch and pray with Christ and we return to the Merton quote above which identifies, helpfully, the need for contemplation, reflection, a deep listening prayer to be the basis of all missional activity; without it we will be building our own empires of sand.
Missional God, who calls us to solitary places to watch and pray with you, call us all to the life of contemplative action where, rooted in your grace, and will we may obediently follow you to feed the hungry, heal the sick and to make disciples. Where we have been lax in prayer and contemplation give us strength. Where we have been faithless in our witness to others may you give us courage and in all things may we have faith hope and love to serve you.
Come, Lord Jesus
Parish Monasticism?
Suscipe me, Domine, secundum eloquium tuum, et vivam; et non confundas me ab expectatione mea.
Receive me, O Lord, according to your word, and I shall live: and let me not be ashamed of my hope.
Since training for ordained ministry at Cranmer Hall in Durham, I have felt a call to a form of monastic life. Monastic life comes in many different forms and, with the rise of New Monasticism in the UK and USA, as well as other places, the word ‘monasticism’ has become a bit of a buzz word. I think this is down to a move of the Spirit; a conviction to return to ‘life together’. Our society and culture loves the concept of community but it has, as I have said before, ‘become vacuous by its overuse’. Community, in the religious/spiritual sense, does not just mean individual autonomous units living side by side but rather means a breakdown of our personal boundaries to enter into a deep communion with others. In this respect I’m indebted to the writings of John Zizioulas, Thomas Merton, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Henri Nouwen, Miroslav Volf and Stanley Hauerwas, who have become significant in the New Monastic movement*.
Whilst in Durham I encountered the Celtic Saints; Cuthbert, Bede and, of course, Aidan! Through their lives and witness I was inspired to live out my discipleship in a meaningful and deeper way. It wasn’t that I wasn’t inspired by other, non-monastic Christians but there was something about the commitment they showed to their Lord that opened my eyes.
I am an ‘all or nothing’ kind of guy. I have always been passionate and if my heart and gut isn’t fully committed to something I rarely engage. It’s been a good thing to have been brought up to be intensely fascinated by the world in which I live. My mother, one of my greatest inspirations, was a teacher fueled by her love of learning. she finds the world an awesome place and, with child like wonder, explores thoughts, ideas and experiences. After separating from my dad, she never re-married. She loved the solitary life (well with three children!) Over the last five or ten years, as her children left home and she experienced increasing personal freedom with her space and time, she has discovered a spirituality that not only enriches her but has transformed her.
She has struggled and experienced a difficult period within those years which had a major impact on that spiritual awakening but whatever has grown in her has been present in her, certainly, through my life. I look at her and she is a ‘monastic’ person; a woman who structures her day around encounters with her heavenly Father, who dedicates every moment of her life to prayer and service and who intentionally seeks God in the everyday.
As I look at my own life and come across decisions I find myself wanting to live a life like my mother because through her I see Christ, his compassion and his Passion. I see the fruit of a life that is dedicated in this way where integrity of character is based on an undiluted desire to be transformed and aligned to that of Jesus Christ, the image of the invisible God.
Whilst discovering the Celtic Saints I also found the Northumbria Community who, from the moment I read their Rule of Life, I knew would have an important part of my discipleship.
It was during my second year at college when I experienced the pain of a particular approach to ministry. This experience un-settled me (that’s an understatement, to say the least!) I found myself uncertain of what I was being called to as a minister in the Church of England. Most of my reflections around this time were around ‘home’ and the feeling of ‘exile’ was very prominent. In this emotional landscape I visited the Northumbria Community and the language that they used was a fresh homecoming… but that’s not quite right: A homecoming in the desert. The feeling of ‘edge’, ‘fringe’ and being an ‘outsider’ remained but I felt a peace about that place.
Since that time I’ve been grateful to God for sending me to the Northumbria Community and I have dedicated myself to attempting to live under their Rule of Life. I began their novitiate process and have been exploring it ever since. That process has, in recent months come to a halt as I struggle to ‘fit’ into parish ministry. It is this struggle which has encouraged me to start writing on the ‘monastic’ call to my life, whatever that ends up looking like.
Over Advent this year, I read Esther de Waal’s ‘Living with Contradiction: Benedictine wisdom for Everyday Living’. I enjoyed it, partly because it is clearly an inspiration for the Northumbria Community’s love of paradox but also because it opened up the cloisters of Benedictine monasteries to everyday life. It made me ask the question, ‘is it possible to have an open monastic house in a parish?’ What might it look like to be a parish priest with a monastic call?
During a stay at Nether Springs (the mother house of the Northumbria Community) I was speaking to Rev. Pete Askew about this sense of call to monastic life. He wisely suggested,
It’s impossible to live the way of life we live here at Nether Springs and be a parish priest. You’d have to be very stubborn to achieve it.
Then he looked at me and joked,
You may be able to do it!
There’s something in my gut which says I should try. I will probably fail. I will probably discover that I am naiive and have completely misunderstood the monastic call. I have reservations about the outcome but I still feel the journey should be made and if, after prayer and seeking, God leads me to a place of humility where I learn from the wisdom of obedience then so much the better… I guess that is my aim; to learn what obedience means.
I plan to read and pray through the Rule of St. Benedict. I will take one chapter each week and reflect on it. This is not (and I want to emphasize this) an exercise of understanding Benedictine monasticism. I will not write my reflections as advice on how to live out the Rule; I am in no way qualified or experienced in that. My reflections will be a personal journey of how I read the Rule of St. Benedict, what the way of life, that is lived out by those who have committed their life to it, inspires in me, encourages in me and challenges me. I do hope it is of benefit to others but more than that I do hope God uses this journey of exploration to speak to me and shape me into what would be of benefit to him.
Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near. (Isaiah 55:6)
*Of course there a female writers, Esther de Waal, Karen Ward, Nadia Bolz-Weber and Sister Catherine Wybourne.