May they all be one.
Father, may they be one in us,
as you are in me and I am in you,
so that the world may believe it was you who sent me. (Jn 17:21)
GOD is a communion of love; and we are called to enter into this communion, to seek God with a sincere heart, and "partake of the divine nature", to become one with God. It is God's own Spirit that accomplishes this union by praying within in us "with sighs and groans too deep for words" (Rm 8:26). The aim of our lives is to attend to this prayer, to be transformed by it, to become this prayer, for "God, who searches the heart, knows perfectly well what he means, since the Spirit intercedes for us according to God's own will" (Rm 8:27).
Throughout the world and across the ages, certain men and women, moved by the Spirit of freedom, willingly left all that was safe and familiar, and gave themselves to the search for meaning and the desire for God. The Monk is a kind of "archetype" of this longing, of this need, and of this search. Monastics/contemplatives are men and women who know themselves called to be as free as the sovereign Spirit by whom they are reborn; and who long to claim that freedom and live it to the full.
When we were
baptized in Christ Jesus we were baptized in his death; in other
words, when we were baptized we went into the tomb with him and
joined him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead
by the Father's glory, we too might live a new life.
- Romans 6:3-4
Christian monastics embody this universal archetype in a specifically Christian way. The Christian way is the way of immersion into the mystery of liberation through death and resurrection for the sake of the world. It is, in short, the way of baptism: entering into the mystery of life and death as the gift of self to others, as love. As such, it is about coming to life by dying: dying to the illusion of an isolated, self-contained ego; dying to the systems and structures of human relationships based on this egotistical illusion; dying to the fear of death and the futile clinging to this mortal life, this existence subject to death. In short, a dying to death.
And like baptism, contemplative life is a process, not a one-off event; a life, not an act: a "dying with Christ" that we may also "rise with him"( cf. Rm 6:5-11; 14:8, Php 1:21, Col 3:3, 2 Tim 2:11). For it is in the rising up out of the waters of immersion that the false self is seen for what it is, and is left behind, as we come to know ourselves to be "Beloved! - in whom I am well pleased" (Mk1:11).
Christian monastics trace their origins and inspiration to the biblical prophets, who not only embraced the world with loving kindness, but embodied it in compassion, taking into themselves the joys and hopes, the grief and anguish of the people of their time, especially of those who were poor or in any way oppressed (cf., Gaudiem et Spes n.1). The origin and inspiration of Christian monasticism is not in a flight from the world, but in a free and courageous choice of the primacy of love.
Monks and Monastic Rules
This
monastic way has only ever been one way, never "the one
and only" way. And as such, it continues to be a source
of inspiration for those called to the contemplative life.
The desert monastics - or "hermits" (from eremos, meaning desert) - of the fourth and fifth centuries felt the call of the Spirit to freedom by way of radical conversion; to an unambiguous solidarity with the poor and marginalised; to a focused and uncompromising discipleship. Their response was the typically biblical response: they went into the desert, the place of conversion, the marginal place, the place of silence and deep listening. These early "hermits" are not only the spiritual heirs of the biblical prophets but also the direct ancestors of all subsequent Christian monastics and contemplatives.
The monastic life that developed in the deserts of Egypt, Syria and Palestine in the fourth and fifth centuries shaped the basic pattern and spirituality of monasticism in the Church both East and West ever since. The regularizing of the monks' daily lives gave rise to various "Rules" (regula in Latin), ordering and orienting everything towards the search for meaning and the desire for God. Everything - from the deepest intentions of their souls and the movements of their hearts and minds, to the food they ate, the clothes they wore, when they rose and when they slept, what they did and how they did it - all became part of their spiritual practice, all was given over to be transformed by the action of the Spirit who called them, prayed within them, and made them into "God's dwelling place on earth, a living temple of sacrifice and praise".
In time, the Rule of St. Basil (330-379) became the dominant pattern of monastic life as it developed in the East. In the West that role fell to the Rule of St. Benedict (480-547). Nevertheless, there have been numerous monastic Rules. And often, more than one single Rule was used and adapted by monastics and monasteries, according to the needs of the times and those involved. In other words, they were flexible!
The Way of the Desert
The way of
the desert is the way of simplicity, silence and solitude.
Set your hearts on God's kingdom
and God's justice,
and everything else that you need
will be given you as well.
- Luke 6:33
Abba Amoun came to see Abba Anthony and said to him, "Since my rule is stricter than yours why are you better known than I?" Abba Anthony answered, "It is because I love God more than you." - AP, Abba Ammoun n.1
In the Christian eremitic tradition, simplicity, silence, and solitude are never ends in themselves. They are a means to a wholehearted love of God and neighbour - what the Gospel calls "purity of heart".
Nor are they points of departure that first have to be perfected. They are a process and a movement into ever-deeper silence, solitude and simplicity, whose ultimate aim is nothing less than the kingdom of God.
Prayer
Contemplative
life has a rich source of guidance in prayer from the monastic
and ecclesial tradition. Its three principal ways of prayer are:
liturgy, lectio, and silent prayer.
"The Liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed; at the same time it is the fount from which all the Church's power flows"(Sacrosanctum Concilium n.10). Christian life as a whole is a preparation for, and an extension of, the Eucharist. Our lives are a participation in Christ's gift of himself in communion with all the suffering and crucified of history. Its celebration is the central act of the believing community.
"By tradition going back to early Christian times, the divine office is so arranged that the whole course of the day and night is made holy by the praises of God.... [I]t is the very prayer that Christ himself, together with his Body, addresses to the Father" (Sacrosanctum Concilium 84). The contemplative life is lived in God who sanctifies our whole existence. Through daily prayer, we express and participate in the renewal of all things and all time filled with the Spirit of God. In the monastic tradition, celebrating the Liturgy of the Hours is the primary "work" of a monk, which St. Benedict urges before all else.
"The
church has always venerated the divine Scriptures as it has venerated
the Body of the Lord.... The sacred Scriptures contain the word
of God; therefore, the study of the sacred page should be the
very soul of sacred theology" (Dei Verbum nn.21, 24). As
contemplative life is nourished by prayer, so prayer is nourished
by the word of God. In the monastic tradition, prayer is the
purest form of theology ("God-talk"). And the word
of God is the very language, grammar and meaning of theology.
Therefore, the "study of the sacred page" is a principle
practice of monastic life.
True to its biblical origins, the contemplative life seeks above all a listening heart wherein God's word is made manifest in Christ, in the Scriptures, in the human heart, and in the heart of the cosmos. Lectio divina is a way of approaching Scripture in order to listen to the depths, seeking to encounter Christ, the Word, through the power of the Holy Spirit, hidden in the words of the text. The goal of lectio is an ever-expanding capacity to listen with the heart to the word of God in all life's situations, leading to a more constant awareness of God's presence. It is a listening, not so much for a particular message, but for the nearness of the living God. It is a listening as communion. In this sense the faithful practice of lectio unifies our entire life of prayer, work, and communion with others.
Lectio is part of a daily spiritual practice. It may be based on the Gospel reading for the day, or on some other scriptural passage. The traditional method for lectio is fourfold:
1. Reading: the repeated reading of the text until certain words or phrases call for attention - a stage often compared to taking in food, as the first "biting into" the word of Scripture.
2. Ruminating: the further "chewing" or "turning over" of key words or phrases, a kind of mantra like repetition, at which time the heart of the text begins to emerge.
3. Praying: these words or phrases eventually lead the person to conscious prayer inspired by the text: a sort of "deep tasting" of the text's meaning for us.
4. Abiding: eventually the particular words of the text lead beyond words to silent awareness of God's presence: a sort of "ingestion" whereby the word becomes part of our very self.
In eremitic spirituality, the purpose of "spiritual practice" - what the monastics meant by the "active life" - was to prepare the way for wordless, imageless prayer, the "prayer of silence", "fiery prayer". Such prayer was understood to be the fruit of constant openness to change and growth, to the gift of "purity of heart" taught by Jesus. The cultivation of and immersion into silence was one of the main "methods" of eremitic prayer.
But they understood silence as more than the necessary context in which God can be heard. It is - like air - the indispensable "atmosphere" for the life of prayer. As Meister Eckhart says: "There is nothing quite like God as silence." It permeates and nourishes us, so that, when we are faithful to its practice, it becomes the "constant prayer" the Scriptures urge us to offer, the very prayer the Spirit prays in us. It becomes our "breath/spirit".
Askesis: Spiritual Practice
The whole of life is a call to conversion and renewal. We live in a world torn and broken by injustice. We know in ourselves the same brokenness and pain, the same cycle of suffering, ignorance, selfishness and fear. Liberation from this vicious cycle is not of our own doing. But it does require our willingness, our fiat to God's liberating love. Liberation - to be set free - is the only genuine aim of spiritual practice, or "asceticism".
Truth is the most exacting penance, and living it the most arduous asceticism - and truth alone can set us free (Jn 8:32). As St. Francis, the "penitent" of Assisi, says in one of his Admonitions: "What a man is before God, that he is, and nothing more" (Admonition XIX). To know the truth of who we are, to accept this truth, and to acknowledge it before others, takes more courage and strength than any fast, mortification or discipline that we can impose on ourselves. Indeed, the penultimate aim of authentic "dying to [the false] self", fasting and discipline is to help us discover and accept the truth, in order that the truth may set us free to be who we truly are before God.
The authenticity of any contemplative way of life is marked by its level of simplicity, generosity, care, and openness to the movement of the Spirit - in short, humility. The daily dying to selfishness, to control, to possessiveness, to activism, to addictions, and to anything else that hinders transformation in Christ, is the basic asceticism. In the monastic tradition a life of moderation, integration, focus, and depth, are sought through whatever practices help in this regard, such as fasting, retreat, pilgrimage, spiritual direction and counsel, manual work and physical exercise, advocacy and solidarity with the marginalised, self-denial, poverty, etc.
Work is and integral part of contemplative living; and work is a great deal more than earning money. It is a means of participating in divine creativity, in the work of God the Creator. It is a means of developing our God-given and God-like skills and talents; and of thereby contributing to the common good.
The primary work of a contemplative is, of course, prayer. All other work is nurtured by a "contemplative mindfulness", by prayerful care, and by willing cooperation with God. Therefore, any and every work in which a contemplative engages can become permeated by prayer, until it becomes - like the "contemplative worker" - a living prayer.
Human work is a necessary part of our human dignity, giving expression to who we are, and mysteriously expanding our very being in God. Sometimes work also entails pain, and to this extent it can be a participation in the mystery of suffering and compassion.
Eremitic Spirituality
The
encounter with God in silence, solitude and simplicity is the
distinctive mark of eremitic spirituality. It is a means by which
we can enter into a deeper silence, a more profound solitude,
and a purer, more liberating simplicity. Through solitude we
are able to enter into the deepest and most honest communion
with all beings; through simplicity we are set free from the
burden of possessiveness, addiction and fragmentation; through
silence we learn to listen, appreciate and communicate. The Hermitage
is the "holy ground" of that communion, that freedom,
and that listening. It is a privileged place of encounter with
all beings and with the Ground of all being. It is not a "refuge
from the world" but the way to the world's true centre:
a sacrament of solidarity in solitude, silence and simplicity.
"Sit in your Cell as in Paradise…" To sit in one's Cell as in Paradise is to enter into the deepest freedom of the human heart, for it is there - in "Paradise" - that God dwells. To abide in the Cell is to abide in one's true self, which is, paradoxically, to abide in the God who dwells in us, in complete and sovereign freedom, loving us.
The "primacy of love" is the authenticating mark of Christian contemplative life and its relation to the church and the world. As followers of Christ, Christian contemplatives do not live for themselves, seeking their own salvation independently of the rest of the world. On the contrary! There is something radically other-centred, indeed political, about this most centred and counter-cultural way of life.
"Going into the desert" is about going into the very heart of things. That includes going to the very heart of power and how it operates in human relationships, from the personal to the global. Desert spirituality actively rejects and opposes the systems and structures of domination that characterize much of the power relations - the political life - of all human societies and institutions.
But it tries to do so with radical self-honesty. For, in the desert, what we discover is that, at root, the oppressor and the oppressed - though incarnated, institutionalised and operating in the structures and systems of society - are both within. And there, they are one and the same: our own self, the human "ego", which is at once social, political, and personal.
We are all
capable of evil; and we all suffer its consequences. The way
out of the vicious cycle of oppression and suffering is the way
of human solidarity through compassion. This is the concrete
"political" aim of seeking solitude, simplicity and
silence. Compassion releases the love that wells up in us when
we touch the core of the one thing we all have in common: our
basic loneliness, oneness, and aloneness.
For a world oriented towards God and moving towards the Good,
the Just and the Beautiful, the "Rule of life" is what
scripture calls Torah: the pattern of a just world, a world in
right relationship with itself and its God. But when the world
is not in right relationship; when, on the contrary, its basic
orientation and thrust is away from God - then the world needs
what Jesus, in the spirit of the prophets, called Gospel: the
good news of victory, God's victory over the injustice oppressing
the world. In such a world, it is the Gospel that is the Rule
par excellence.
For Christian contemplatives, "proclaiming the Gospel"
means living the Gospel in the choices we make about how we relate
to the church and the world. A contemplative aims to respond
to Jesus' exhortation to "render unto Caesar what belongs
to Caesar" by rendering Caesar nothing, because the contemplative
has nothing of Caesar's to render; and "to God what belongs
to God" by giving all, because all has been given us by
God.
Those who choose the way of the desert, choose to stand on the margins of both church and world in obedience to the message from the empty tomb: "He is not here. He is risen ... and gone ahead of you to Galilee" (Mk 16:6,7). The Risen Lord is not to be found in the centre of things: neither in Jerusalem, the centre of the world, nor in the Temple, the centre of orthodoxy. Rather, he has gone ahead of us, to Galilee: to the margins. Christian contemplatives are called to be marginal figures, then, because they follow the Risen Lord.
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