THE SPIRITUALITY OF THE LONG HAUL

“Those who wait for you, O God, shall never be disappointed.” Romans 10:11

Those who follow this blog know that I am a certified spiritual director who is drawn to continued growth in my relationship with God and others. I feel so fortunate to be able to provide space and a listening ear to those with this same desire. You may not know, though, that I am also an Oblate novice with a Benedictine monastery here in Arkansas, Subiaco Abbey. Feel free to check them out online: https://countrymonks.org/

I was exposed to Benedictine spirituality in my late 30’s through a sweet nun who worked with women in recovery. These quotes may help explain why I feel that being an Oblate fits so well with my spiritual direction practice:

“The ability to listen to another, to sit silently in the presence of God, to give sober heed, and to ponder is the nucleus of Benedictine spirituality.”

“Benedictines seek balance in a life rooted in prayer, work, and study in a single-minded search for God. Theirs is a way of being in the world that is open to God and open to others.”

“Even at the end of his Rule, Benedict does not promise that we will be perfect for having lived it. What Benedict does promise is that we will be disposed to the will of God, attuned to the presence of God, committed to the search for God, and just beginning to understand the power of God in our lives. Why? Because Benedictine simplicity gentles us into the arms of God…”

Benedict of Nursia wrote his Rule in c. 530 for monks living communally under the authority of an abbot. Yet, there are many parallels to our lives now in 2024. Oblates are those who want to channel their desire for God into a way of living that gradually leads us to God, and to link that seeking to a monastery or convent, joining in their prayer, community life, and good works.

With that bit of history as a backdrop, I would like to share something from the Rule of Benedict that speaks to the spirituality of the long haul—something that fits well with the liturgical season we find ourselves in—Ordinary Time. The language of the Rule is a bit foreign to our modern ears but the message is a wise one, and the reflection that follows speaks to our daily life in ordinary times. I pray this speaks to you and helps you go the distance in whatever circumstance you find yourself in today:

From the Rule of Benedict, Chapter 72: The Good Zeal of Monastics. Just as there is a wicked zeal of bitterness which separates from God and leads to hell, so there is a good zeal which separates from evil and leads to God and everlasting life. This, then, is the good zeal which members must foster with fervent love: “They should each try to be the first to show respect to the other” (Romans 12:10), supporting with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior, and earnestly competing in obedience to one another. No monastics are to pursue what they judge better for themselves, but instead, what they judge better for someone else. Among themselves they show the pure love of sisters and brothers; to God, reverent love; to their prioress or abbot, unfeigned and humble love. Let them prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and may Christ bring us all together to everlasting life.

Reflection by Joan Chittister:

“Here is the crux of the Rule of Benedict. Benedictine spirituality is not about religiosity. Benedictine spirituality is much more demanding than that. Benedictine spirituality is about caring for the people you live with and loving the people you don’t and loving God more than yourself. Benedictine spirituality depends on listening for the voice of God everywhere in life, especially in one another and in the here and now. An ancient tale from another tradition tells that a disciple asked the Holy One:

“Where shall I look for Enlightenment?”
“Here,” the Holy One said.
“When will it happen?”
“It is happening right now, the Holy One said.
“Then why don’t I experience it?”
“Because you do not look,” the Holy One said.
“What should I look for?”
“Nothing,” the Holy One said. “Just look.”
“At what?”
“Anything your eyes alight upon”, the Holy One said.
“Must I look in a special kind of way?”
“No,” the Holy One said. “The ordinary way will do.”
“But don’t I always look the ordinary way?”
“No,” the Holy One said. “You don’t.”
“Why ever not?” the disciple demanded.
“Because to look you must be here,” the Holy One said. “You’re mostly somewhere else.”

Just as Benedict insisted in the Prologue to the Rule, he requires at its end: We must learn to listen to what God is saying in our simple, sometimes, insane, and always uncertain daily lives. Bitter zeal is that kind of religious fanaticism that makes a god out of religious devotion itself. Bitter zeal walks over the poor on the way to the altar. Bitter zeal renders the useless invisible and makes devotion more sacred than community. Bitter zeal wraps us up on ourselves and makes us feel holy about it. Bitter zeal renders us blind to others, deaf to those around us, struck dumb in the face of the demands of dailiness. Good zeal, monastic zeal, commits us to the happiness of human community and immerses us in Christ and surrenders us to God, minute by minute, person by person, day after day after day. Good zeal provides the foundation for the spirituality of the long haul. It keeps us going when days are dull and holiness seems to be the stuff of more glamorous lives, of martyrdom and dramatic differences. But it is then, just then, when Benedict of Nursia reminds us from the dark of the sixth century that sanctity is the stuff of community in Christ and that any other zeal, no matter how dazzling it looks, is false. Completely false.”

As we enter this season of Ordinary Time, may we daily look to God to show us the way. May we pay attention and listen deeply to what God is communicating to us through our day-to-day circumstances and through our hearts. Let’s ask for the grace to live like Christ did—in the ordinary with extraordinary love—for the long haul.