St. Benedict on humility and disinterstedness

By Barbara A. Schoeneberger

Altenburg Abbye (photo by Tyssel,
Wikimedia Commons)

The year 1875 marked the 1500 anniversary of the birth of St. Benedict, whose Rule I am bound to follow by my choice of becoming an Oblate. Now, another 125 + years later, not a day goes by that I do not marvel at the wisdom of this “Father of Western Monasticism” and how it applies to my life today. Moreover, by the grace of God I can see how He has arranged my life to make it possible to follow this Rule without complications. Not that the road is easy – just that the path is not hidden. The barbed-wire fences and hedgerows along the way keep me from wandering beyond the point where I would lose direction. That is, in fact, one purpose of having a rule in the first place.
In Chapter 57 St. Benedict writes:

If there are craftsmen in the monastery, let them practice their crafts with all humility, provided the Abbot has given permission. But if any one of them becomes conceited over his skill in his craft, because he seems to be conferring a benefit on the monastery, let him be taken from his craft and no longer exercise it unless, after he has humbled himself, the Abbot again gives him permission.

Abbots, like parents, have special graces granted by God to fulfill their duties of guiding and protecting the spiritual and temporal life of the family. In the case of the monastery, the community is supposed to be self-sufficient under the direction of the abbot. The talents of the various members are to be applied, according to the discretion of the abbot, in the service of the daily upkeep of the household.


Continue reading at Barb's blog Suffering With Joy.

God's promise to me and to all

By Colleen Spiro

Ascension of the Lord by Lanchares (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

Connie Rossini wrote in an earlier post, "Everyone has an idiolect - a collection of personal speech habits that is different from anyone else's. Have you ever thought about your spiritual idiolect?  Since your soul is unique, you have a personal way of speaking to God that no one else completely shares."

I pondered this question for weeks. How do I speak to God? How do I communicate with him? How do I relate to God? What feeds my spiritual life?

My first thought was the word "Listen."

Listen is the first word of the Rule of St. Benedict. As a Benedictine oblate, I try to listen to God's voice. I listen to God's voice within my heart. I listen to God's voice in others' voices. I listen to God's voice in the events of my daily life.

What is more delightful than the voice of the Lord calling to us?
 St. Benedict

My second thought was the word "Look."

I look for God everywhere. I look expecting to find Him. I never ask the question  - where is God? I know He is present. And because I know He is present, it is just a matter of "how" He is present. How will I find God? Where will I find God?

When I was a child, one of my favorite movies was the Easter movie, "King of Kings." I loved that last line spoken by Jesus - "And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.” (Mt 28:20)


Continue reading at Colleen's blog Thoughts on Grace.

Helen Keller and my spiritual idiolect

 by Caroline

This post begins an occasional series in which CSBN members explore their spiritual idiolects.

Helen Keller (photo in Public Domain).

"Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content."

 Helen Keller

Here’s a question I never thought about until  Connie Rossini at Catholics Spirituality Blogs Network asked, “What is your spiritual idiolect and how did you discover or develop it?”

She defined it for us:

“Everyone has an idiolect–a collection of personal speech habits that is different from anyone else’s. Have you ever thought about your spiritual idiolect? Since your soul is unique, you have a personal way of speaking to God that no one else completely shares. Today I am announcing the creation of a new blog that will help you find and fine-tune your spiritual idiolect.”

Though it took me a few days in prayer and waiting to hear from the Lord, I think I finally understand the question.

In the spiritual life, discovery is often a very slow and painful process. I don’t know why; it just is. I came to understand mine when the Lord reminded me of one of my childhood heroes.

As a young girl, the first time I saw the movie, The Miracle Worker, I remember being captivated by several things:

• the terrible tragedy of being born able to see and hear, then struck at 19 months with a disease that left her deaf and blind
• the desperation that set in because she was isolated and cut off from any understanding of language
• the miracle of Annie Sullivan who finally taught her to communicate by spelling words into her hands

In a small way, like Helen, I understand what it is to feel isolated and alone, trapped in a spiritual internal darkness and silence generated by tragedies in my life over which I had no control. There’s a scene in the movie where in an attempt to teach Helen that every object has a word to identify it, Annie begins spelling the word “m-u-g”, into her hand, but in utter frustration, when Helen can’t make the connection, she throws the doll Annie had given her as a present… against the wall.

Yes, there were many years as a young Christian I felt just such exasperation, because I didn’t know how to translate the spiritual language of my heart.


Continue reading at Caroline's blog  Bell of the Wanderer

I met Him in a foxhole

by Caroline

 

Religious Services by Paul Rickert (National Museum of the U.S. Army)

Yesterday, before I left for my pastoral care day at the hospital, I started grumbling to my husband; fatigued and bearing a list of things that needed to get done, I was looking for an excuse not to go. Of course he saw right through me and gave me this challenge:

They’ll be one person there today, whom you’ll least expect to be the one the Lord wants to encourage—
Look for him and text me later.

Off I went…still grumbling of course, while recalling a portion of the Rule of St Benedict which says that grumbling and faint heartedness are a failure to remember the goodness of God. I prayed, "Lord forgive me and

…prepare my heart and body for the battle of holy obedience to Your instructions. What is not possible to me by nature, let me ask the Lord to supply by the help of his grace."

        —The Rule of St Benedict, Prologue 40-41

Halfway through the morning rounds, I was in the moment, but still plagued with the mental background noise of all I needed to get done.until I entered a room on the fourth floor.

The patient by the window on my list was asleep, so I prayed softly by his bedside and turned to leave, smiling as I passed his roommate. But, before I made it to the door’s threshold, he spewed a litany of complaints with fervor, frustration and an assortment of colorful expletives.

"Nobody gives a bleep about me in this bleeping place."

Read more about Caroline's experience with this patient at  Bell of the Wanderer. 

Note: Early this morning (June 6), Caroline's site was down. It's back up now. If you tried to go there and couldn't, please try again. Sorry for the inconvenience.