BEING BREAD

 

JESUS THE BREAD OF LIFE 

Today is the Solemnity of The Body and Blood of Christ. Corpus Christi. 

During this week the mass lectionary has led us through Chapter 6 of John’s gospel, the so-called “Bread of Life Chapter.” After recounting the miracle of the loaves and fishes, John continues with such familiar passages as:

35 Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. …48 I am the bread of life. 49Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’ 52 The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ 53 So Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55 for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live for ever’  (John Ch. 6).

SLEEPING WITH BREAD 

There’s a little book entitled Sleeping with Bread by Dennis Linn et. al. The title comes from at story told at the beginning of the book: “During the bombing raids of WWII, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, 'Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.'”

As I listened to the readings from the “Bread of Life Chapter” this week I kept seeing the image of those little war orphans sleeping peacefully in their beds, each holding on to a piece of bread. For those suffering children the bread meant much more than calories and carbohydrates. It was a promise, an encouragement. In the midst of a chaotic war-torn world, the bread was a reassuring, palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow. When Christ says, “I am the bread of life,” isn’t he giving himself to us as a promise, an encouragement, a reassuring palpable presence, the gift of hope for tomorrow?

BEING BREAD

But there’s more to this “bread of life” business than Jesus’ giving himself to us in the Holy Eucharist. For one thing, remember that where the other three gospels have Jesus instituting the Eucharist at the Last Supper, the Gospel of John does not. Instead it tells how Jesus washed the feet of his disciples (Jn 13:3 ff.). The episode ends with Jesus commanding the apostles: "14 So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (Jn Ch. 13).

Jesus Washing Feet

The readings at this time of the liturgical year are full of such commands, commissions and sendings. The angelic messengers at the tomb tell the women, “Go, tell the disciples…,” the disciples are commanded "Go into Galilee,"and the risen Lord appears to the disciples and gives them the commission to “Go forth into the whole world…” The first reading today (Friday) was the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus; once again someone’s life is interrupted by a peremptory command from the Lord: "Stop what you’re doing and go do this for me."

Combining the themes of the Bread of Life and of these various “sendings”, it's easy for us to imagine Jesus saying to us, his followers, “I am the bread of life, and now you have to go forth and be bread as well. In the midst of a chaotic materialistic world, be bread for one another, be a reassuring, palpable presence, be the gift of hope for tomorrow for your brothers and sisters.  I want you to be bread for one another."

I preached on this theme in the homily at today’s community mass. On the way to the sacristy after mass I passed a basket on a table in the gathering area in the back of church. A hand-lettered a sign on the basket is labeled simply “Food Pantry.” The basket was overflowing with canned goods and a big box of Special K. I smiled as I thought to myself, "Well, it’s not exactly bread, but some of our parishioners sure know a great way to be bread for the poor families in our neighborhood.”

As I continued toward the sacristy I started wondering who I'm supposed to be bread for in the next day or two. Hmm... Maybe it's you?

GET READY, GET SET...

From time to time I will run into one of our high school Students standing in the hallway. I say to him “what class are you supposed to be in right now?“ And he Will answer “I’m getting ready to go to English class.“ The response “I’m getting ready come across as awfully evasive. It leaves open the questions “what are you doing in the hallway?” And quote, why aren’t you in class?" The great French religious philosopher Blaise Pascal writes somewhere that many Christians waste their Present lives Waiting for heaven, which is their goal.

In some of the recent Mass readings, we have heard Jesus telling us to prepare for the master's return. But he doesn’t tell us to simply “await” that return.

The center of his message is that the kingdom of God is already among us. This kingdom exists, if you will, in this spaces between us.

I need to ask myself what characterizes the space between me and, say, this particular brother. Is it envy? Sympathy? Jealousy? Or self-giving love? That’s where the kingdom exists already!

Yesterday I had this awful thought: I imagined that I had died, and Jesus was asking me how I had spent my life. And I answered “I was getting ready!”

That is not the response we Christians are supposed to give in accounting for our lives.

Blaise Pascal 1623 - 1662

We are each called to make a liar out of Blaise Pascal by spending our lives on earth being Christ for everyone we meet. We are supposed to be helping to build the kingdom on earth. 

We have no time to waste by just “waiting for the Lord to return.”

WITNESS PROGRAM

In the first reading for today’s mass (the third Sunday of Easter) Saint Peter tells the Sanhedrin “We are witnesses to these things.“

In one of his post resurrection appearances, Jesus announces to his disciples,

"Go, be my witnesses."

“You are witnesses to these things.“ (Luke 24:48) And at the very beginning of the Acts of the Apostles the risen Lord sends out his disciples with this mission: “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth.” The word “witness” appears ten times in the Acts of the Apostles.

We see how the Apostles bore witness by their preaching and healing, and ultimately by dying for Christ. The Greek word for witness is martyr. But as early as the period when the gospels were still being written the Greek word also took on the second meaning that it now has in English, “One who died for the faith.

But what about you and me? What does this witnessing entail each of us? What are some ways that we can act as witnesses to Christ’s victory over sin and death? The gospels offer us some good hints.

"Cast your net to the right("

Take for instance the Gospel passage assigned for today, the story of Jesus appearing to the apostles for the third time since his resurrection. The apostles are out fishing. Jesus is standing on the shore, but they do not recognize him right away. This is the same thing that happens to Mary Magdalene at the tomb, and to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus.

It seems that we have the same problem too. The risen Savior is present in every person that we meet, but we often do not recognize him.

At the wake for my brother, I was sitting by myself in a separate parlor when my three year-old grandniece, Gracie, who had just arrived with her family walked up and stared at me with her big eyes the way little kids do. After a few moments, she asked me “Are you the one who died?“ I replied that no, I was not the one who died, he was in the next room. 

We Christians never need to ask anyone, “Are you the one who died?”. Every person we meet is the living presence of “the one who died.“ Or better, “the one who died and rose again.“ 

Whatsoever you do ...

Our task as witnesses to the resurrection, then, is first, to recognize Jesus in every single person around us, And then, to act on our belief by our various ways of loving them. It may be a kind word, a kind smile, a healing gesture, or going out of our way to help. The possible ways of witnessing to Christ’s presence in the world are endless.

During this holy season, then, let us pray to the apostles, who were the first to recognize the risen Lord, and the first to bear witness to “the one who died” or, better, “the one who died and rose again.”

LEARNING FROM CHILDREN

 “Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God likea child will not enter it." (Mk 10:16)

After preaching on this passage from today’s gospel at our community mass this morning, I came to my room and continued reading a book entitled “A time to die.” Written in French, it recounts stories of how monks in eight monasteries in France had faced death. It is, as you would expect, a little somber at times, but the overall thrust is that monks generally see death as simply a transition to the eternal life that they’ve been aiming at during their entire life in the monastery.

This quotation on one Abbot’s coat of arms summarizes his spirituality: “As newborn babes." Because its message is so close to today’s gospel passage, I would like to share an entire long paragraph with you (my translation). The abbot wanted to explain his choice of this bible verse to his brothers.

In a moving text, he describes his vision of the monastic ideal: to become a child. This implies a change, an effort, a true labor. This transformation, however, is the indispensable condition for entering into the family of God, into his sanctuary into the kingdom of heaven, to enter into this game, which is the monastic life. Now, what does spiritual childhood consist of? In one word, it is made of simplicity, of confidence, total abandonment into the hands of God. […] Thus the monastic life is a life made for children. The monastic life is a game, the grand game of love [“charité”]. In a game, you have to respect the rules, that’s just like in the monastic life. The monastic life is a game which is played with God and with those whom the Lord has chosen to bring to the monastery, those that we call our brothers. Truly monastic life is a conspiracy of love.”

The simple message that any Christian can take from blog post is this, to borrow afootnote from the New American Bible, “Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child: i.e., in total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel.”

"Total dependence upon and obedience to the gospel” would seem to be a good message for the beginning of Lent, challenging us to root out all those things that we depend on rather than depending totally on God.

Have a blessed Ash Wednesday and a holy Lent!

ON DENYING MYSELF

Jesus said to his disciples,

“Whoever wishes to come after me

must deny himself,

take up his cross, and follow me¨ (Matt 16:24).

At the risk of looking too picky or grumpy, I am sharing on this post a word search that began with yesterday´s gospel passage (above) and turned out to be quite fruitful for me. 

The verse above tells you that if you want to follow Christ, you have to “deny your self.” Frankly, I don’t find the common translation “deny” to be very helpful, at least to me. So yesterday I took a close look at the Greek word that Matthew uses, aparneomai. It has a few different senses:

1. To deny: to say that one does not know about, or is in any way related to a person or event. Now, just how am I supposed to say that I am in no way related to myself, I do not know about myself? OK. Then let’s move on to meaning number two.

2. “To reject,” as in the passage ¨I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before others the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God. But whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God.¨(Lk 12:8-9) Well, that doesn’t sound like a good mental hygiene: to reject or turn my back on myself.

But don’t lose hope, because there is yet a third meaning.

3. “To refuse to give thought to, or expressed concern for; to disregard, to pay no attention to, to say ‘No´ to.¨ At last! This final phrase offers me a practical guideline for following Christ: To say no to my spoiled inner child. 

When I first saw this translation, it pointed an accusing finger right at my heart. I have countless opportunities every day to say “No.”

Especially to the spoiled brat who lives inside me. Even something as simple as refusing a second dessert, or biting my tongue when I want to yell at a misbehaving student, or picking up my laptop instead of doing, lectio divina.

One very practical advantage of this translation is that it allows me to practice on little things at first, so I can stay in practice for those times when serious temptations come along and, to be a follower of Christ, I have to say “No!” to them.

So when I hear Jesus tell his disciples that they have to “deny themselves,” I have a pretty good idea of what he must be asking of me.

WARNING LIGHT

A week ago I came across a quotation from one of my favorite saints, Caesarius of Arles, in which he is warning his flock to beware of those moments when they are feeling complacent and satisfied with their spiritual progress. The danger is this: it is just at those moments that we naturally tend to let down our guard, and the devil takes advantage of our carelessness and lures us into sin.

Oops! Pay attention!

I remember a similar idea in C.S. Lewis’ “The Screwtape Letters.” This religious classic is a series of letters written by a senior devil to a novice devil who is just learning the basics of how to be a good tempter. In one of these letters, the older devil points out that the man who is the assigned target for the younger is now in a perfect position to be lured into sin: The gentleman in question has become quite satisfied with his spiritual life, and thinks that the balance in his “bank account“ in heaven is in pretty good shape. Thus the man is getting smug. The senior devil points out that this man is now the perfect target for temptation because his guard is down. It’s a time for rejoicing among the demons. The younger devil is instructed to encourage this self satisfaction, so that it will become easier and easier to lure this gentleman into sin. 

Caesarius  and Lewis are on to something here: If you become complacent or satisfied with your relationship with the Lord, bad things can happen.

I have found that a daily examination of conscience can be very valuable defense against spiritual complacency. If I sit down at the end of my day and can find no imperfections or faults that I need to ask God’s help with, then the little red warning light appears on the dashboard: “Caution! You are in a dangerous situation." 

Caesarius tells us to watch out for tiny ¨harmless¨ faults and ¨trivial¨ venial sins. And C.S. Lewis warns that the devils rejoice when they see us start to relax and become self-satisfied about the state of our spiritual life. 

I hope that these brief but wise cautions will be as helpful to you as they have been to me.

Saint Caesarius of Arles, pray for us!

Preparing for Death

Earlier this week a good friend texted me to tell me that her 81 year-old mother had just asked her "How do you prepare for death?" Since I'm good friends with both of them, I figured that I'd write a response even though no one had asked me to. Below is the letter I wrote to the mom who had asked the question.

Dear Mrs. ___________,

A few days ago your daughter passed on to me a question that you had asked her, about how a person prepares for death. Naturally, at age 81 you and I start to think seriously about this question. So, I thought I would share with you some of my thoughts about preparing for death.

First, I try to remember that, as Jesus says in one of his parables, we really spend our whole lives in expectation that the Lord will come “at an hour we least expect.“ In one parable, he says that if the master returns and finds the servant doing what the master had asked him to do, then the servant will be rewarded. So one way for me to prepare for death is to just live my life following Jesus’ example and his commands: loving all those that God puts in my life every day. If I d0 that, then I’ll be prepared whenever the Master decides to come.

I’m finding that there is also a more immediate preparation for death. All of the saints seem to refer to their relationship to the Lord as “friendship,” as a close, intimate relationship with the Lord. This isn’t based on just “saying prayers,“ but on having back-and-forth conversations with him in which I let him know my inmost hopes and fears, my pains and my pleasures. Of course he knows these already, but I’m telling them to him because this is what you do in a close friendship: you leave yourself vulnerable and open to the beloved’s responses. It builds a closer relationship with the Lord.

I’m preparing for death, too, by trying to become aware of all the ways in which the Lord

communicates with me every day: in a beautiful sunset, for instance, or in a kind deed someone does for me, or in a verse of Scripture that touches my heart in a special way. God is always communicating with me, so I’m trying to get better at watching for his loving actions in my life.

It’s also important for me to be careful of my idea of God. Jesus came to reveal to us that God is a “father“ who loves me unconditionally just the way I am. He is not the vengeful, spiteful executioner, who seems determined to keep people out of heaven. Unfortunately, many of us have been introduced to that God, so it takes effort to get rid of that idea, and replace it with Jesus’s idea of God as an all-loving Father, like the father in the parable of the Prodigal Son. That is, after all, the God that Jesus came to reveal to us. 

So, as I start to prepare for death, I am preparing to meet this God, who loves me infinitely, and who has been giving me gifts every day of my life, a God who can’t wait to meet me face to face, and so I am starting to look forward to meeting him as well. 

Well, these are just a few of my own personal answers to your question. Let us keep praying for one another as we try to get ready!

Love,

Fr. Albert

SHOW US THE FATHER

"Lord, show us the Father,"

Twice this week the liturgy presented us with the passage from John Chapter 14, in which Philip ask Jesus “show us the father.” 

As a Jew, Philip is aware of that mysterious passage in the 24th chapter of Exodus:

Moses then went up [Mount Sinai] with Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel, and they beheld the God of Israel. Under his feet there appeared to be sapphire tilework, as clear as the sky itself. Yet he did not lay a hand on these chosen Israelites. They saw God, and they ate and drank (Ex.24:9-11).

So maybe Philip has in mind some sort of great theophany like this one. But look at Jesus’s response. He has been revealing to his apostles the deep, intimate closeness that he has with his father. So close that the two are united, almost as one. So Jesus answers “he who sees me sees the father.” 

But this dialogue is getting too abstract, it seems, even for the writer of John’s gospel. So Jesus goes on in a practical vein: "Whoever believes in me, will do the works that I do, and even greater than these."

Now he is speaking about doing. But if this not a promise that we’ll be able to perform miracles the way he did, what kind of works could he be talking about?  Look at the context: In the preceding chapter he has just washed the disciples' feet, and is about to give himself in love to die on the cross. This is who Jesus is. He is also revealing to us who God the Father is: God is love. Pure, self-sacrificing love.

In our own lives, Jesus is telling us, we have to be about the same works of love -- and we can’t wait for someone to ask us “Show me the Father.” We have to be showing this Father all the time to everyone we meet. 

To a friend who is grieving, we can show the Father of compassion and comfort. 

To someone who is discouraged, we can show the Father of strength and perseverance. 

Showing people the Father is always about love. Loving is our vocation as baptized Christians. 

Our Lord is asking us to spend our lives "showing people the Father," the Father of love, compassion, humility, and peace.

STARTING NOW

 

Every afternoon after school you can find a good number of students in our school's lobby "waiting for their ride." We Christians have always been subject to the temptation of thinking that this present life is simply a period of waiting in the lobby until God, like some Supernatural Uber Driver, comes one day to pick us up and take us home to heaven.

But Jesus' central message, the "Good News," is that the God who created the world and who delivered the Israelites from Egypt and who guided them through the wilderness for forty years and into the promised land, this same God is on the move once again, acting in history: The Kingdom of God is breaking in on us. "The Kingdom of God" Jesus announces, "is among you." It would be a terrible shame to spend our lives looking out the window anxiously watching for our Uber. I came across the following passage earlier  this week and found it helpful in thinking about the "lobby" mentality.

In being Jesus we make God present

Eternal life is something that can start here and now. Eternal life is the injection into the realm of time of something of the realm of eternity; it is the coming into human life of something of the life of God himself. It is the promise of God that if you choose to live life with Jesus Christ, heaven begins on earth. Into our human trouble and frustration there come the peace and power of God. [Slightly edited for gender- free language.] -- William Barclay "New Testament Words," 91.

God promises us eternal life, life in time and life in eternity. Barclay, in a paragraph preceding the one cited above, writes "Eternal life is not simply life which goes on forever. It is true that the NT never forgets that God promised men the resurrection from the dead (Acts 26:6). But the essential of eternal life is not simply duration: it is quality."

So, if eternal life, the Kingdom, is indeed breaking in on us right now, then our lives should have a deeper, richer quality right now. "Eternal life is the injection into the realm of time of something of the realm of eternity."

This is why we feel satisfied and happy when we are acting in love toward others. This what we're made for, and our loving kindness and selflessness are a foretaste of heaven.

So, if we live our lives according to the Gospel, then the experience of death will be not so much a wrenching separation from life, but rather a filling out of the life of love that we've already be living for some time.

MONASTIC WISDOM FOR QUARANTINE TIME

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The monastery should, if possible, be so constructed that within it all necessities, such as water, mill and garden are contained, and the various crafts are practiced. Then there will be no need for the monks to roam outside, because this is not at all good for their souls. (Rule of Benedict, Chapter 66, The Porter of the Monastery)

Benedict didn't think it a good idea for monks to be "roaming outside," so the present shelter-in-place conditions would please him, I'm sure.

In our monastery, the daily schedule hasn’t changed at all.  The most noticeable difference is that in 

church and in the refectory we’ve modified our seating so as to keep as much distance as possible between us. But our weekday schedule is the same: Morning Prayer at 6:00, Breakfast at 6:50, Midday Prayer at 11:50 followed by lunch, 4:00 quiet reading, 5:00 mass, 6:00 supper, 6:45 Vespers, 7:15 recreation, 8:00 most of us are in our rooms. Since things like food shopping or driving our children to ballet lessons were never part of our life anyway, the restrictions aren’t as noticeable for us as they are for everyone else.  

Right now I’m responsible for educating our two novices (new members of the community) in the spirituality and customs of the monastery. (Remember that monastic wisdom is simply gospel wisdom packaged in a slightly different way.) As we go through these principles, attitudes and practices I've noticed that many of them might be of value to anyone living in tight quarters with others right now, or might help a person to grow spiritually from the present challenges. So, here are a couple that my be of use to you.

The first is “restraint of speech.” While it’s important to communicate with one another (you must never use silence as a weapon), there are times, St. Benedict says, when even good words are better left unsaid out of respect for silence. You might try to become more aware of your speech -- how much, what you say, your tone of voice, and so on.

Another help to getting along with others is surely the virtue of humility -- the honest, down-to-earth assessment and admission of the truth about myself, both the good and the bad. There’s this wise saying making the rounds these days that says “Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it’s thinking of yourself less.” Benedict is big on putting your own wants second to the wants and needs of others. Any group of people who think this way will find it much easier to build a peaceful community.

Another practice that Benedict encourages is “mutual obedience.” He says that obedience is a blessing that we monks owe to each other and not just to the superior. It’s another angle on putting aside what I want for what the other person or the group needs.

A final trait that St. Benedict shows in writing his Rule for Monks is one that you might do well to imitate is his wise assessment of the frailty and limitations of human nature. Life in community becomes much easier once you admit that you're not perfect and neither are any of your brothers or sisters, your superiors, your children, your students or anyone else. So, when someone gets on your nerves, it’s helpful to remember that love is often about putting up cheerfully with one another's shortcomings and weaknesses and trying to be of help to others.


 If you notice, all of these ideas are applications of basic Gospel teachings. Monks simply try to live the gospel in a more obvious and emphatic way. The Coronavirus pandemic is offering everyone, not just monks, the challenge and the opportunity to do the same: To live the gospel in a more intense, emphatic way. Benedict tells us that God is everywhere (e.g. the workshop, and the refectory, as well as the chapel), and that Christ is present in every person (especially the poor, the very young, and the sick). So, no matter where the pandemic forces you to go, and no matter who it may force you to encounter, you can comfort yourself in knowing that God in Christ is there to be discovered and served. No crisis, no pandemic is bigger than the Universal Christ whom you meet in every situation and in every human being.

ST PAUL'S TIMELY ADVICE

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Three days a week I teach my New Testament class via Google Meeting. It's been going fairly well. I often have on the screen the live images of all twelve sophomores at once, so I can monitor who's dozing off, or who's sneaked away.

At the end of class yesterday I spent a couple of minutes asking them  how they're doing, and what they do to pass the time. (Video games, sleeping and eating, in case you're wondering.) I feel really sorry for these teenagers who need to be outside getting exercise and blowing off steam. As I listened to them I realized how really hard it must be for them and for the members of their families to stay out of one another's way.

After class was over, I found in my mailbox a letter from a friend who mentioned that she's taking advantage of this period of being shut-in to spend more time with her husband. In an ordinary week their work schedules keep them from seeing much of one another. I found that a very uplifting little  thought, realizing that she and her husband have decided to profit from this awful crisis to grow in their love for eachother.

Then, at Vigils this morning (on the feast of St. Mark -- happy feast day, Br. Mark!) we heard the following words of encouragement addressed to the Christians of Ephesus. I think they're valuable for us to hear during these days:

I, then, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace: one body and one Spirit, as you were also called to the one hope of your call; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all (Eph 4:1-ff).

This turns out to be a very good list of things to do to make Christ present in your home by the way you treat one another:

humility
gentleness
patience
bearing with one another through love
striving to preserve the bond of peace.

Maybe you can work on one of these this week, and even invite someone else to join you in making the risen Lord present in your home despite the closed doors.

Stay well!

BENEDICT'S TWO ASSUMPTIONS

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This past Wednesday I gave a talk on the spirituality of Saint Benedict. It proved to be a good exercise for me as a monk, since it gave me the opportunity to reexamine my own commitment to my vocation as a Benedictine. But it also reminded me that monastic spirituality is at its base simply the spirituality of the gospel that every Christian is called to live in his or her own state in life. 

Like any Christian, the monk's main task is “to seek God.”  And at the heart of the monk’s search according to the Rule of Benedict is a pair of assumptions: First, that God is everywhere, and second, that Christ is to be found in every person.

GOD IS EVERYWHERE

St. Benedict probably got his sense of the holiness and the wholeness of the universe from living in the mountains of Italy. He sees that the hills are filled with the glory of their creator. They are, therefore, sacred. He sees himself surrounded by the presence of God in hills, thorn bushes, ravens and rainstorms. Then he takes this vision and expands it to include all of creation: everything in our daily human existence is holy, even the tools of the monastery, which Benedict demands should be treated with the same reverence as vessels of the altar. Distinctions between the “spiritual” and the “material,” then, make no sense, whether you’re talking of trees or ax handles, mountains or cooking pots.

This blurring of any distinction between what is “holy” and what is “earthly” comes across in the way the various jobs in the monastery are described. The abbot, for example, who is the spiritual head and teacher of the monastery, also has the down-to-earth tasks of making sure the bell gets rung on time, assigning the daily work to the brethren and keeping an inventory of the monastery’s tools and clothing. The cellarer, on the other hand, who has the very practical charge of distributing to the monks all the various material necessities, is to do so with the same compassion and concern for everyone’s spiritual well-being as the abbot: he should be “like a father to the whole community.”  “If any brother happens to make an unreasonable demand of him, he should not reject him with disdain and cause him distress, but reasonably and humble deny the improper request.” This monk who is in charge of the store room “must show every care and concern for the sick, children, guests, and the poor, knowing for certain that he will be held accountable for all of them on the day of judgement.”  

If jobs in the monastery aren’t divided into purely “spiritual” and “secular,” neither are the activities of the monk’s day. You bring your meditation to the way you work, your holy reading to the way you treat your brothers and sisters, your tears to your praying, and so on. In Benedict’s vision, praying, working, feeling, and thinking are all woven together into a seamless fabric. They are all part of the one most important task, the single-minded search for God.

This principle underlies every Christian's view of the world, everyone's spirituality: "I do not lead two lives, one "spiritual" (religion, prayer) and the other "secular" (meaning "real life" -- e.g.  food shopping, paying bills, driving the kids to soccer practice). We each lead only one life, not two. Our path to heaven is precisely through our everyday actions as we faithfully live out our vocation or vocations as parent, spouse, employee, friend, and so on.

CHRIST IS FOUND IN EVERY PERSON

Benedict is very explicit about this principle: Christ is to be encountered especially in the young, the sick, guests, and pilgrims: "for it is in them that Christ is especially received." Notice that the particular examples he gives -- people that often make demands on us at inconvenient hours or in inconvenient ways. Jesus may show up in the person of a difficult student who is acting out his frustrations in my class, or as a stranger at the front door of the monastery asking to talk to a priest.

The Jesus that I encounter may come as a beautiful first-grader with the face of a little angel. But He is just as likely to show up as the Suffering Christ dragging his cross up Mount Calvary. This second face of Jesus is obviously much less pleasant, much more difficult to deal with, but there He is, standing in front of me.

"Who would Jesus hate?"

In the past several years this second of Benedict's great principles "Jesus is present in every person in the world" has been abandoned in favor of a principle that says "Christ is found in people who look like me, who speak like me, and who meet my criteria of acceptability." This convenient principle means that I have no obligation toward "the Others" who are less fortunate than me, who live under political oppression or who are starving to death. We can justify ignoring the plight of these fellow humans  on the basis of any of a number of principles. But the Gospel, and Saint Benedict won't stop reminding us of that Great Principle, "Jesus is present in every person."

Put that on your bumper sticker.