St Benedict (2) - Stability

BENEDICT (2) - THE VOW OF STABILITY

THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER ON THE OTHER SIDE

Let me tell you about three people I knew during the 1960s.

Marjorie's first spiritual director was Canon Brynley Jones. Within a year she had grown tired of him and was seeking advice and counsel from Fr. John Peach. He only lasted a little bit longer before she had transferred herself to Fr. William Ullathorne.

Brenda was confirmed at the age of twelve. Within the next twelve years, she had explored the Jehovah Witnesses, the Baptists and the Methodists, before returning to the Anglican Church.

David, a former Metropolitan Police Officer, was ordained in 1968. After two years he became a Missions to Seamen Chaplain at an English port for a year before becoming a fund raiser for the society for a period of eighteen months. After a further eighteen months as a priest-vicar of a cathedral, he became a Diocesan Chaplain to the Deaf. Within ten years of ordination he was already two years into his sixth job as a Team Vicar in Wiltshire.

Why have I told you about these three people? I would suggest that Marjorie, Brenda and David had each one thing in common. They were restless people.

Marjorie moved from one spiritual director to another; Brenda moved from one religious experience to another and David moved from one ministerial appointment to another. Each chose to run away from the present in the hope of finding God in 'greener pastures' of the next spiritual director, next religious experience, or the next ministerial appointment

This human experience of restlessness in one's search for God is nothing new. The early monks of the sixth century were prone to move from one spiritual guru to another. Many came to St Benedict for advice and counsel, but then moved on to someone else whose advice and counsel was more acceptable. They also moved from one religious community to another. Such continuous coming and going was not only disruptive to the life of a community, but was also disruptive to their own spiritual development, since it prevented them from coming face to face with themselves.

What then is meant by the vow of stability?

First of all, it meant stability in one's vocation to be a monk, and sticking to it through thick and thin. It was a lifetime commitment and could not be disregarded whenever the going got tough.

Secondly, it meant stability of geographical location, Once a monk joined a particular community he remained with that same community for the rest of his life. In accepting to live under the Benedictine Rule, a monk chose to limit himself to the confines of that particular monastery.

Thirdly, it meant stability of a community of relationships. After a lengthy period of introduction and familiarisation, a monk was asked three times whether or not he wished to join that particular community of people. If he said “Yes' , and the community agreed, he was bonded together with that same group of individuals for the whole of his life.

And fourthly, the stability of vocation, geographical location and of a community of people provided the necessary external environment in which the monk sought to develop his inner stability of the heart.

As far as Benedict was concerned, one could not expect to grow in the spiritual life, unless one was prepared to find that inner stillness of the heart.

For instance, a plant which is continually being uprooted and replanted in order to give it more sunlight, more shade or more protection is more likely to die, since it is unable to put down permanent roots from which to draw nourishment,

In the same way, a Christian who is continually on the move is unable to put down permanent roots from which to draw nourishment and is therefore more likely to die.

What then does the vow of stability mean for us in the twenty-first century?

Firstly it means a refusal to run away from oneself.

I recall a person I once knew who was very involved in the life of her parish church, the deanery and a major charity. She attended the Eucharist every Sunday and twice during the week. She was a member of two house groups. She was on the PCC. She was a regular visitor of some of the housebound parishioners. In fact, she could always be relied upon to volunteer for any additional responsibility in the life of the parish. In short, when she was not at work in the office, she was at work in the parish.

Whilst I do not wish to minimise her valuable contribution to the life of the church, one does have to ask the question, 'What was she running away from?' And here we come to the crunch. It was an unhappy marriage. She used her involvement in the church as a means of surviving her marriage, rather than applying her energies into making her marriage work. Regrettably, her running away prevented her from facing the reality of her marriage and her own contribution to its unhappiness, which she blamed naturally upon her husband.

Just in case you think this instability applies only to the laity, let me assure you that it also applies to the clergy.

For instance, during the twelve years I worked in Australia, I found myself beginning to attend induction services in the same parish for the third time, and in one case, for the fourth time. The average length of stay appeared to be about three years. Now I am not suggesting they only had three years’ worth of sermons based on the three year lectionary. I think it was a question of moving to a better parish, since, save for three or four, they were all the same. Basically, there was a deep-seated restlessness. The sad thing was that, because they could not cope with their own restlessness, they were unable to help their parishioners who could not, like them, get up and move whenever they wanted to.

Make no mistake, we are all tempted at times to run away from ourselves rather than face up to our real selves because we do not like what we see. But if we are to grow spiritually, we have got to come face to face with the dark shadowy side of our personality and fully own it as part of ourselves, no matter how painful it may be at times.

Secondly, the vow of stability means that we must accept the present as the time and place of our encounter with God.

There is always the danger that we avoid the present, either by looking over the fence at the green pastures of the future, or looking back to the good old days of the past. In other words, we look elsewhere but the present, as the time and place of encountering the living God. But we encounter God in the here and now, and that is where he wants us to be.

It was during a visit to a Trappist Monastery, that the great Dutch spiritual writer of our time, Henri Nouwen, became aware of the restless character of his own life. In his book The Genesse Diary: Report from a Trappist Monastery, he describes how his life was constantly on the move, lecturing, praying, counselling and yet a life in which there was, to use his words, 'A lack of one eyeness'. He goes on to say that he decided that, 'Wherever I am, at home, in a hotel, in a train, or place or airport. I would not feel irritated, restless and desirous of being somewhere else or doing something else. I would know that here and now is what counts and is important because it is God himself who wants me at this time in this place.'

In other words, we should avoid looking over the fence at the greener pasture elsewhere, and likewise we should avoid looking back over our shoulders at the 'good old days' of the past. It is here and now that we find God, not elsewhere. Furthermore, it is he who wants us to be here at this particular place at this particular time. But we shall only discover God provided we have learned to cultivate that inner stability of the heart.

The same point is made by the Russian Orthodox Archbishop, the late Anthony Bloom, who says, 'You will find stability at the moment when you discover God is everywhere, that you do not need to seek him elsewhere, that He is here, and if you do not find Him here, it is useless to go and search for Him elsewhere because it is not Him who is absent from us, it is we who are absent from Him.'

Thirdly, the vow of stability enables us to develop that inner stability of the heart, whereby we are constantly at one with God.

I am convinced that the busier we are, the more distractions there are to claim our attention, the more we need to cultivate that inner stability of the heart, which we carry within us wherever we are.

The basis of that stability of the heart is of course the stability of God's love for us, which is not subject to the change and chances of this fleeting world. This we see superbly illustrated in the story of the prophet Hosea. You may recall that Hosea married a prostitute who continued to share her body with other people. Yet in spite of her constant unfaithfulness, Hosea still went on loving her, until at length, love won through. Now that is a picture of God's love for you and me. No matter how often we become side tracked by the attractiveness of life around us, he still continues to love us. How else can we respond to such constancy except by the stability of our innermost being - an inner chamber, cut off from the hustle and bustle of the world around us, where we can indeed find God.

The Benedictine vow of stability means that, first we should stop running away from ourselves. Secondly, we should accept the present as the time and place of encounter with the living God, and finally, the vow enables us to develop that inner stability of the heart whereby we find that we are constantly with God.

The Sayings of the Desert Fathers record that ‘A certain brother went to Abbot Moses in Scete and asked him for a good word. And the elder said to him, 'Go, sit in your cell, and your cell will teach you everything.'

So I say to you, forget about those green pastures. Go and sit in the inner cell of your heart and in it you too will find God.

O Almighty God, who alone canst order the unruly wills and affections of sinful men;

grant unto thy people,

that they may love the things which thou commandest,

and desire that which thou dost promise;

that so, among the sundry and manifold changes of this world,

our hearts may surely there be fixed

where true joys are to be found;

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen