Category Archives: Monasticism

The new monasticism revisited

Posted by on November 11, 2010 27 comments

Over three years ago I posted about the then still somewhat new movement known as “the new monasticism.” At the time I was pretty enthusiastic about the helpfulness of both this label and movement. Nowadays I’m less enthused, not, perhaps about the actual work that many of these communities are doing (after all I’m still very much a part of a church that has been included under this rubric), but about the terminology and literature that’s been put out over the last few years.

Today I am less convinced that “monasticism” is a helpful descriptor for intentional forms of ecclesial life today. Monasticism, by its very nature, at least historically, has always been a sort of special dispensation, a unique and decidedly non-ordinary  and non-normative way of living within the church as a whole. I have never really understood the call to life together under the Gospel to be something like that. This is not to say that I think a faithful form of life together can only look one way (just the opposite, actually!), but only to say that I think it is important that movements that call the church to a mode of life together for the sake of the world should not allow themselves to be written off as some new sort of “monastics” who are off doing a special little thing of their own.

Interestingly, I think many of us who have been affiliated with “the new monasticism” have found much rhetorical juice from a quote from Bonhoeffer (which I quoted in my other post mentioned  above):

The restoration of the church will surely come from a sort of new monasticism which has in common with the old only the uncompromising attitude of a life lived according to the Sermon on the Mount in the following of Christ. I believe it is now time to call people to this. (Letter to Karl-Friedrich Bonhoeffer, January 14, 1935 in A Testament to Freedom, p. 424)

In the past I think we tended to zero in how awesome it surely was that Bonhoeffer is calling for “a sort of new monasticism.” But Bonhoeffer’s point is rather different, I think. For him the central point is that this new movement for the renewal of the church will have one thing, and one thing only, in common with monasticism, namely the “uncompromising attitude of a life lived according to the Sermon on the Mount.” In other words, what Bonhoeffer wanted people to be called to was not a specifically monasticish movement at all, but rather simply to an uncompromising style of messianic life in which all of our action as Christians is given over to the sort of radical love to which Christ, in the Sermon on the Mount, calls us.

What is needed today is not so much a rediscovery of “monasticism,” as perhaps we had once thought. Rather what is needed is to return all the more strongly to the message of the Gospel of the crucified, which places its call upon all humankind. We perhaps need to die to the dream of cultivating and securing quasi-monastic communities for ourselves and learn, yet again, what it might mean for us to simply give our lives away in obedience to the call of the Crucified, who calls not simply a few to a special ascetic vocation, but rather calls all of us to be completely given over to the way of discipleship, which can only be a kenotic way of life in which the call to lay our lives down must be discerned afresh in whatever contingent circumstances we find ourselves.

Acedia and Visual Media

Posted by on May 1, 2009 15 comments

So my latest theological–and somewhat personal–fascination has been with the concept of acedia, or as it is catalogued in the list of deadly sins, sloth. There is little question in my mind that acedia is the primary bane of my existence. There are literally dozens if not hundreds of worthwhile pursuits that I feel interested in, but when it comes down to uncontested time, I seem to inevitably end up watching an entire season of this or that awesome show. Btw, all you guys should totally check out Deadwood, its like, totally awesome…

St. Thomas has been quoted as providing perhaps the most arresting definition of acedia as “a sadness arising from the fact that the good is difficult.” If that doesn’t describe the sort of lethargy and listlessness that typifies my hours of transfixed attention to HBO series’ I don’t know what does.

Dante also interestingly claimed that acedia alone of all the seven deadly sins arose from a lack, an insufficiency in our love for God. In Purgatorio all of the souls in Purgatory who were guilty of acedia find themselves forced to constantly run at top speed. That’s perhaps the worst post-mortem punishment our generation could imagine.

The LCD screen is perhaps the worst facilitator of acedia to ever be invented. I’m sure writing a blog about this topic is the right move… Are there support groups for visual media addicts? I think I’m a visual media addict. The real world just requires too much attention and activity.

Benedictine Community and Anabaptist Ecclesiology

Posted by on October 4, 2008 8 comments

Anabaptism is unique among all ecclesial frames for reference derived from the Reformation in many ways, one of which involves its Catholic roots and specifically Benedictine roots. Unlike Luther the Augustinian, Calvin the lawyer, or Zwingli the Christian humanist, the Anabaptist tradition arose largely in the soil of the Benedictine tradition. This is seen most clearly in the influence of Michael Sattler over the Radical Reformation. The earliest Anabaptist confession, The Schletheim Confession, is widely accepted as deriving directly from the thought of Sattler, and its fundamental affirmations are clearly Benedictine in origination.

Herein lies the fundamental difference between Anabaptism the other major offspring of the Reformation, especially Lutheranism. Luther’s theology was shaped in a thoroughgoing manner by his rejection of human action and ecclesial practices as coterminous with divine action and merit. As such Luther vehemently rejected monastic profession and the Christian taking of vows. Anabaptism, by contrast never rejected the more “catholic” emphases in ecclesiology, even including the church’s ability to participate in divine action through the power of the keys in pronouncing absolution. Likewise Anabaptism did not reject the monastic (and particularly Benedictine) notion of intentional community, vows, and embodied life together.

The key point of disctinction between the Radical Reformation and its Benedictine roots came in regard to the issue of ecclesiology. For Sattler and the Anabaptist tradition as a whole, the monastic practices that originate in the Benedictine tradition are not intended simply for a monastic class within the church, but rather for all members of the church without exception. For the Anabaptists there is no salvation outside of the perfection of Christ. The “counsels of perfection” are not for a monastic caste, but rather for all believers. This is the center of the Anabaptist theology of discipleship, not a rejection of monastic practices and a catholic vision of the importance of the church as a locus of divine action, but a univeralizing and intentional ecclesializing of the monastic vision.

Obedience, Selfhood, and Solidarity

Posted by on March 2, 2008 Comments Off

I’ve commented recently on the monastic vow of stability and the ways in which is may serve as one means of resistance to capitalism which is an especially appropriate ecclesial practice for affluent people in the West.  A commitment to stability, staying in one place, is of course quite an oddity if not a scandal in the hyper-mobile culture of late capitalism.  However, equally and concomitantly subversive is another strand of the threefold monastic profession, obedience.  Obedience has clearly fallen into disrepute both culturally and ecclesially among Western Christians, based primarily on the pathological fear of authority that attends the Enlightenment construal of the autonomous self.

The modern self has been trained, as Herbert McCabe rightly argues to view obedience as at best a necessary evil.  The fundamental presupposition that generally obtains in Western culture is that each individual subject has their “own unique personalities and desires and talents and that the good life consists in each one of us developing his/her individual personality as much as possible.”  As McCabe points, out id doesn’t matter much at all what you will do; so long as it simply is your will you have a right to exercise it unless in violates someone else’s will.  This basic presupposition about human selfhood underscores the way in which obedience is construed among Christians today.  Ideally no one would ever have to obey, but sometimes when what I desire conflicts with the desires of another, a compromise must be reached and one or both of us must do the opposite of what we will to do.  As such this may be necessary, but it is always evil and always suspect.

In contrast with the modern understanding of obedience as the begrudging submission of my will by the will of another, McCabe points out that in the Christian tradition “Obedience is first of all an act of learning“; the goal of obedience is not that the person obeying would simply do that with which he disagrees, but rather “real obedience is to be found in those who share the common agreement”.  In other words in the Christian tradition of obedience, what is extolled as virtuous is not simply the unwilling suppression of one’s desires to a superior, but a willing submission of oneself to a wise teacher. 

Obedience likewise is not simply a pragmatic matter (We have to get things done, so somebody has to compromise), but is a matter of “fraternal unity.”  McCabe suggests that perhaps the languages of solidarity would be helpful in defining the nature of Christian obedience.  Obedience means entering into solidarity in a community within which persons apprentice themselves to one another so as to be taught and nurtured by those who, through experience and practice are wise teachers of the way of Christ.  The agenda for Christians is then, is building “the kind of communities in which obedience is possible.”

Note how this alternative construal of obedience is the polar opposite of how it is understood in modern culture.  The modern self represses their distinctive selfhood through obedience by submitting their will to an interdictor.  The Christian self, by contrast enters precisely into a “discovery of self” in being obedient.  This is because “obedience is not the suppression of our will in favor of someone else’s, it is learning to live in community, in solidarity, which is simply learning to live.”

Thus, obedience is not the effacement of the self, but the journey to genuine self-discover and self-realization.  This is so precisely because the Christian tradition holds that the self is constructed in and through union and communion between persons.  And of course this sort of self-realization must look different than modern ideas thereof.  As McCabe points out most clearly, and I think, subversively to modern ears, “Of course to discover yourself is to unlearn as well as to learn; it is to abandon a notion of yourself that you had before in favour of a new and deeper one.  The process of the novitiate and beyond is the process of realising that you were wrong about who you were, as well as the sometimes exciting process of realising what you can be.  We always have to keep dying to the old self as we rise to the new.  Any human relationship, any love, is a giving yourself away, a sacrifice, a kind of dying.  That is familiar enough.  Only he who loses himself will find himself.”

On the Possibility of Resisting Capitalism

Posted by on March 1, 2008 11 comments

In recent posts there have been some good questions raised about the nature of Christian social critique, particularly of capitalism and how authentic theological action can take place in the face of the capitalist order.  I’ve argued on the one hand that Christians should be ideologically opposed to capitalism on theological grounds.  I’ve likewise argued that all such oppositions to the capitalist order occur within the context of capitalism.  None of us critiques from outside, but always from within the hegemony of global capitalism.  The question this raises regards what kind of authentic theological action is able to open up new vistas of liberation and hope.  How can the Kingdom break into the capitalist hegemony?

This is clearly a question that should be pondered and practiced in many different venues and in many different ways.  While I’ve argued that there is no way to overthrow capitalism or extract ourselves from it, that should not, however mean that genuine resistance, liberation, and hope is not possible or actable-on in the world.  What we cannot do is come up with a theory of another totalized system with which to replace capitalism.  We cannot do this for two reasons.  First, it would take much to make plausible the idea that another global economic framework could ever overcome the capitalist order.  Secondly, and more important theologically, is that the logic of the Christian gospel does not lend itself to any sort of totalizing economic framework which humans could autonomously construct.  All totalized systems of economics are susceptible to the critique of the interrupting Word of God.

One of the ways in which I think an authentic mode of theological action is embodied is within the practices of monasticism, particularly the vow of stability.  In vowing to stay in one place, monastics (and the “new monastics”) create a space in which forms of life can be cultivated, that, at least in some aspects are free from capitalist discipline.  While not a total answer (there can be no total answers) to the capitalist problematic, a community who takes it upon themselves to deny themselves the kinds of mobility and “options” at least is taking on one crucial way of attacking the pervasiveness of capitalist discipline.  This is, of course merely one way in which theological action which opens up experiences of liberation from the capitalist hegemony.  What other modes of theological action would folks put forth?

Exploring the Rule of Benedict §4: Contemporary Protestant Approriations of the Benedictine Tradition

Posted by on December 22, 2007 3 comments

In the last number of years, there are a variety of different protestant communities and churches that have come together in ways that resemble and glean from the Benedictine way. This movement has come to be known as the “New Monasticism”. Throughout the United States and the United Kingdom a variety of different monastic-style communities and churches have come to embrace central elements of the monastic, and particularly the Benedictine vision. While these groups are clearly not monastic in the proper sense (i.e. they are free to be married, generally have private possessions, and often live in their own houses), there is a clear resonance between the spirituality of the Rule of Benedict in the life and practice of these communities.

Central to this movement (in varying ways) is the three-fold Benedictine vow of conversatio, obedientia, and stabilitas. There is a clear commitment to live under a more rigorous rule of life and practice than is the case in most protestant churches. In New Monastic communities, at the very least, all members commit to living within the same general area, often with different members living together in common households, depending on the cultural and social location of the community in question. This commitment to reorder one’s life around the common life of the community corresponds to the Benedictine vow of conversatio. Obedience is likewise a central element among New Monastic communities. While these communities are not ordered under an abbot as Benedictine monasteries were, the emphasis is on submission and deference to one another in the making of decisions resonates with the monastic practice of obedientia rather than autonomy. Finally, New Monastic communities practice a form of the Benedictine vow of stabilitas. There is always some measure of permanent commitment to the community of which one is a part. While this is not practiced in the same sort of way as is done in Benedictine monasteries, the concept of covenant is central to the New Monastic understanding of how God calls us to be faithful to one another, forsaking the transience and career-driven mobility of our culture.

While the New Monasticism is certainly not the only appropriation that could be made of Benedictine spirituality, it is perhaps the most pronounced one to take root in Protestantism in recent years. And it is a movement to be welcomed in the church. In an age of hypermobility, fragmentation, and widespread social alienation, stable cells of the body of Christ which embody his presence intentionally in local contexts are more necessary than ever to the mission of the church. Alasdair MacIntyre, in his landmark study, After Virtue chronicled what he termed “the failure of the enlightenment project”. The forces of modernity and enlightenment, he argued, have led to fragmentation, and potential social and economic chaos. In light of this, however, he calls not for some sort of Marxist revolution or a violent overthrow of the status quo, but rather for “the construction of new forms of community within which the moral life could be sustained so that both morality and civility might survive the coming ages of barbarism and darkness.” It is precisely this vision which animates the contemporary appropriation of Saint Benedict on the part of the New Monasticism. In much the same way that the Benedictine tradition preserved the forms of Christian morality and culture that were necessary to Christian life through the barbarism of the dark ages, such communities as the New Monasticism may fulfill a similar function today as our increasingly globalized world grows more and more violent, dominative, and unstable. As MacIntyre says,

What matters at this stage is the construction of local forms of community within which civility and the intellectual and moral life can be sustained through the new dark ages which are already upon us. And if the tradition of the virtues was able to survive the horrors of the last dark ages, we are not entirely without grounds for hope. This time however the barbarians are not waiting beyond the frontiers; they have already been governing us for quite some time. And it is our lack of consciousness of this that constitutes part of our predicament. We are waiting not for a Godot, but for another – doubtless very different – St. Benedict.

It is to this task of constructing local forms of community that the communities of the New Monasticism have applied themselves. And their agenda is not simply to preserve intellectual and moral life – though they may be instrumental in that – but to embody the fullness of Christ’s vision for the church in the world. This is the lesson they have taken from Saint Benedict. MacIntyre was surely correct at the time of his writing that we were waiting for a new Saint Benedict, or better, for new Benedictines. Perhaps, just such new Benedictines have come among us, and for that we should be thankful, for them, for Saint Benedict who lead the way, and for the Spirit of God who brings out of his storehouse treasures new and old.

Exploring the Rule of Benedict §3: Distinctives and Contributions of the Benedictine Tradition

Posted by on December 21, 2007 Comments Off

While the spirituality of the Rule of Benedict is multifaceted, there are two basic principles of Benedictine spirituality that have been identified by the followers of Saint Benedict. The first is that the divine presence is everywhere. This is emphasized throughout the Rule of Benedict, both in that God sees all things, and that because of the presence of God, the posture of the brothers is to always be one of obedience and awe. For Benedict, the presence of God is all encompassing and expansive. The whole of human life is laid open before God, and it is in light of that reality of the divine presence that the constant calls of the Rule to abstain from laziness are to be understood (cf. Rom. 13:11-13).

The second principle is that Christ is encountered in others. “To love Christ above all else” (RB 4.21) is the ultimate goal of Benedictine spirituality. This goal is sought out through submission to the abbot and to one another as unto Christ (RB 2), and through hospitality to the stranger in whom Christ himself is welcomed (RB 53). While there are clearly authoritarian elements in Benedict’s account of the relationship between the abbot and the brothers in the monastery (cf. RB 63, 68), it should be remembered that Benedict’s understanding of the presence of Christ being mediated through other persons (rather than solely through the Eucharist, the priesthood, etc.) is distinctive in its historical context. Moreover, Benedict is clear that the abbot is accorded honor on the basis of the love of Christ, not because of the abbot’s own “assumption of dignity” (RB 63).

Another central element, or rather the overarching context of Benedictine spirituality is the monastic profession: the vows into which a brother or sister would enter in coming into the community. The Benedictine vow was a three-fold commitment to conversatio (conversion, or the submission to the shape of monastic life), obedientia (obedience, chiefly to the abbot), and stabilitas (the commitment to stay among the community for the rest of one’s life). These vows were entered into as a way of establishing the context necessary for proper growth in holiness, contemplation, and worship of God. Central to the Benedictine life was the total sharing of all things in common, renouncing possessions and self-determination entirely, seeking instead to learn obedience, humility, and service.

The Benedictine vision of rejecting private ownership – which Benedict firmly brands as a vice (see RB 33) – was central to Benedictine spirituality as well. While the Benedictines were not a mendicant order such as the Franciscans who gave up possessions altogether, the Benedictine vision called for the complete rejection of private ownership and the holding of all possessions in common. This form of life in common, rejecting autonomy and private possessions continues to present the church with a prophetic witness that needs to be heard, especially in our culture of commoditization. Fortunately, in the last few years there has been an increased appreciation for this witness within the protestant church.

Exploring the Rule of Benedict §2: Biblical Sources and Trajectories of the Rule

Posted by on December 19, 2007 2 comments

The Rule of Benedict is saturated throughout with biblical quotations and allusions. Like many of the theological and spiritual writings of the premodern era (and distinctly unlike many of those in the modern era), Benedict does not so much cite proof texts of Scripture in support of his assertions as he simply speaks through scripture. Most often, Benedict is found citing the Gospels, the Psalms, and the Proverbs. Much of the rationale for the Rule lay in seeking after the cultivation of central biblical virtues, chiefly humility and obedience, both of which are major themes in the Psalms and wisdom literature. In the Rule of Benedict, humble obedience is the primary virtue (RB 7) of the Christian life and the primary way of struggling against sin was through the cultivation of humility. While for Augustine, the primary struggle in the Christian life was between the love of God and the libido dominandi, for Benedict the primary challenge was the struggle between the divine call to the “labor of obedience” and the human rebellion which is the “laziness of disobedience” (RB Prologue). For Benedict, according to the Bible, obedience is the master virtue to which human beings are called before God. It is the struggle to live in obedience which characterizes the Christian life. 

The wisdom literature and the prayers of the Psalms were the central resource that Benedict drew on in seeking after these biblical virtues. Central to the entire Benedictine way of life was constant immersion in the Scriptures, especially the Psalms. According the Rule, the entire Psalter was to be chanted every week by the brothers (RB 18). Benedict viewed this is a minimal endeavor, as the early monastic fathers had sung the entire Psalter daily. At the core of Benedictine spirituality was constant immersion in, and contemplation of the Holy Scriptures.

Modern readers will be quick to balk at some of the harsh uses of certain scriptures by Benedict, especially in regard to the form of discipline undertaken in the monastery (see RB 27, 28). While of course there is good reason to question flogging in response to disobedience as a viable Christian practice in our contemporary context, it behooves us to remember the historical context in which the Rule was written. In contrast to many of the rules that were promulgated in the same time period, the Rule of Benedict was widely considered to be extremely moderate and practical in its demands and strictness. Its ascetic practices were extremely moderate by comparison to the kinds of self-flagellation practiced in a wide variety of contemporary monastic settings. Likewise, as the Rule of Benedict states rightly, the forms of discipline exercised on rebellious brothers were not considered by Benedict to be the most effective or serious measures to be called upon. In the face of the failure of excommunication to restore a wayward brother, Benedict called on the abbot and the brothers to turn to “greater things”, which are chiefly “prayers…so that the Lord may cure the sick brother, for He can do all things” (RB 28).

In sum, while Benedict does not provide a biblical defense of the idea of monasticism and monastic living, such a defense is not something that one would realistically expect him to have ever thought of providing. The monastic movement during his time was a way, and perhaps the primary way in which Christians sought to return to the vision of discipleship articulated in the Bible in a way that remained within the church but still protested against the corruption and self-exaltation of the ecclesial hierarchy. The most charitable and equitable way of reading the monastic movement and its biblical roots requires attention to this context and the realization that these communities were exclusively centered on striving after ways to be faithful to God in the midst of an unstable world and a corrupt church. As such, Benedictine spirituality has much to teach the church today, especially in view of some striking similarities between the breakdown of culture in the dark ages and the fragmentation of life in late capitalist postmodern culture. In light of this, it seems prudent for the church today to be open to considering the insights of Benedictine spirituality.

Exploring the Rule of Benedict §1: Historical Backgrounds of the Rule

Posted by on December 18, 2007 1 comment

While the Rule of Benedict itself does not name its author, all historical sources identify the author as Benedict of Nursia (ca. 480–543). The main sources we have about the life of Benedict are the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, the first monk to become pope, and a great admirer of Benedict. The Rule has its roots in the previous rules that had circulated in the centuries prior (rules from Augustine, Basil, Cassian, and The Rule of the Master). Throughout this period in Europe, and in Italian monasticism in particular there was a common practice of borrowing and modifying of monastic rules by the various orders and communities of monks that would come together. The movement was largely decentralized and dynamic, having little supervision or control being exercised over it by the papal and magisterial hierarchy of the church.

What makes the Rule of Benedict unique involves its setting in its sixth century Italian context. It is likely that the Rule was written just after, or during the Justinian re-conquest of Italy against the Frankish and the Gothic invaders (in the 540’s or 550’s). During this time, there was a great amount of dislocation and upheaval, which led to the presence of a great many undisciplined wandering monks who had not been well trained, and whom Benedict viewed as a blight upon the church and the monasteries. These are the Sarabites and the gyratory monks which Benedict hates so much for their indulgence and undisciplined form of life (RB 1). In the face of massive social dislocation and transience, both in terms of regional politics and monastic dispersion, the aim of Benedict was to create a stable community focused on contemplation, the opus dei (the chanting of the Psalter), hospitality, and study. It was this vision of intentional, stable community which would define the shape of Benedictine spirituality and establish itself as a major enclave of culture and education throughout the dark ages.

Exploring the Rule of Benedict: Introduction

Posted by on December 17, 2007 Comments Off

The following series of posts is based on my exploration of the Rule of Saint Benedict.  Being part of a church which falls under the rubric of the “New Monasticism“, naturally an exploration of the key literature of the monastic movements is important to me.  Regardless of ecclesial location, however I think all Christians have much to learn from the monastic traditions.  Over the next four days I will be posting a four part series on the Rule of Benedict and its contemporary reception among protestants, which is a very new and ing many ways mystifying ecclesial occurance.

The Rule of Benedict, while perhaps not widely read, especially among protestants is one of the most interesting and influential books in the history of the western Christian tradition. Amongst all the monastic orders which developed throughout the middle ages, the order of Saint Benedict stood out as a distinctive presence throughout Europe which contributed greatly to the preservation of culture, literacy, the Bible, and theological scholarship. As protestants we are predisposed to view the monastic movements with suspicion, not least because of Martin Luther’s rejection of monastic vows as a viable Christian practice. This has led to an ongoing skepticism among protestants as to the legitimacy of vows. However, in spite of this historic aversion to monasticism, there is a growing interest in the history and implications of the monastic movements among protestants today. Indeed, in view of the continually expanding fragmentation of western culture in our late capitalist era, there is more than ever a perceived need for intentional, monastic-style communities to carry on the task of the preservation of culture, community, and Christian theology and practice. More shall be said about this later, however for the present purposes, the very fact of such a resurgence of interest in monasticism gives us good reason to explore the historic roots of monasticism in greater depth. And the Rule of Benedict is, perhaps one of the most central resources for such an exploration.

The series of posts will proceed as follows:

  • §1: Historial Background of the Rule
  • §2: Biblical Sources and Trajectories in the Rule
  • §3: Distincitves and Contributions of the Beneditine Tradition
  • §4: Contemporary Protestant Approriations of the Benedictine Tradition

A Very Basic Introduction to the Rule of Benedict

Posted by on October 23, 2007 Comments Off

Background:

While the RB itself does not name its author in any way, all historical sources identify the author as Benedict of Nursia (ca. 480–543). The main source we have about the life of Benedict are the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, the first monk to become pope, and a great admirer of Benedict. The RB has its roots in the previous rules that had circulated in the centuries prior (rules from Augustine, Basil, Cassian, and The Rule of the Master). What makes the RB unique involves its setting in sixth century Italy. It is speculated that the Rule was written just after, or during the Justinian re-conquest of Italy against the Frankish and the Gothic invaders (in the 540’s or 550’s). During this time, there was a great amount of dislocation and upheaval, which led to the presence of a great many undisciplined wandering monks (the sarabites, which Bendict hates so much). The aim of Benedict was to create a stable community focused on contemplation, the opus dei, and study.

Biblical Sources:

The RB is saturated with biblical quotations and allusions. Most often, Benedict is found citing the Gospels, the Psalms, and the Proverbs. Much of the rationale for the RB lay in seeking after the cultivation of central biblical virtues, chiefly humility and obedience, both of which are major themes in the Psalms and wisdom literature. In the RB, humble obedience is the primary virtue (RB 7) of the Christian life and the primary way of struggling against sin was through the cultivation of humility. The wisdom literature and the prayers of the Psalms were the central resource that Benedict drew on in seeking after these biblical virtues. Central to the entire Benedictine way of life was constant immersion in the Scriptures, especially the Psalms. According the RB, the entire Psalter was to be chanted every week by the brothers (RB 18). Benedict viewed this is a minimal endeavor, as the early monastic fathers had sung the entire Psalter daily.

Benedictine Spirituality:

There are two basis principles of Benedictine Spirituality. The first is that the divine presence is everywhere. This is emphasized throughout the RB, both that God sees all things, and that because of the presence of God, the posture of the brothers is to always be one of obedience and awe. The second principle is that Christ is encountered in others. “To love Christ above all else” (RB 4.21) is the ultimate goal of Benedictine spirituality. This goal is sought out through submission to the abbot and to one another as unto Christ (RB 2), and through hospitality to the stranger in whom Christ himself is welcomed (RB 53).

The other central element of Benedictine Spirituality is the monastic profession: the vows into which a brother or sister would enter in coming into the community. The Benedictine vow was a three-fold commitment to conversatio (conversion, or the submission to the shape of monastic life), oboedientia (obedience, chiefly to the abbot), and stabilitas (the commitment to stay among the community for the rest of one’s life). These vows were entered into as a way of establishing the context necessary for proper growth in holiness, contemplation, and worship of God. Central to the Benedictine life was the total sharing of all life in common, renouncing possessions and self-determination entirely, seeking instead to learn obedience, humility, and service.

Contemporary Appropriations:

In the last number of years, there are a variety of different protestant communities and churches that have come together in ways that resemble and glean from the Benedictine way. This movement has been referred to as the “New Monasticism”. Central to this movement (in varying ways) is the three-fold Benedictine vow of conversatio, oboedientia, and stabilitas. While these communities are not ordered under an abbot as Benedictine monasteries were, the emphasis is the total transformation of life in community, submission and deference to one another in the making of decisions, and a commitment to long-term presence and stability as members of one another. For a discussion of the three-fold Benedictine vow and how it informs the New Monastic communities, see Jon Stock, Tim Otto, and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove, Inhabiting the Church: Biblical Wisdom for a New Monasticism (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2007).

The Christian Intellectual Life

Posted by on August 1, 2007 4 comments

Much ink has been spilt over the question of what it might mean to be a Christian intellectual.  Often such books are either laments concerning the anti-intellectualism in the church or apologetic pleas to the church that intellectualism, or “the life of the mind” be viewed as a valid Christian practice.  Whatever the book or article, there is generally always some sort of perceived gap between the church and the academy. 

This, I would suggest is primarily, if not exclusively the fault of the academy.  The academy, at least in its modern incarnation (and this point is key) sequesters the intellectual life from the church, and then academic theologians are flabbergasted when the church ceases to be intellectual! 

I don’t think there is a “solution” to this problem other than to insist that the academy must undergo a massive change if it is to properly serve the church.  The nature of this change is not easily synthesizable.  However, I would suggest that some thoughts in this direction can be gleaned from monasticism.  It has been monastic orders throughout the ages who have found ways of integrating service, communal life, contemplative spirituality, and academic study into an integrated form of life which serves the church and the world.  If the academy is going to again become an ecclesially based reality, and thereby stimulate a vibrantly Christian intellectual life that is profoundly ecclesial, I think that it must become more monastic in shape and practice.  

Tragedy for The Simple Way

Posted by on June 20, 2007 Comments Off

As some of you might have heard, there was recently a 7 alarm fire in Philadelphia which decimated the Kensington neighborhood where the intentional Christian community, The Simple Way is located.  Many familes have been displaced and many other have lost all of their belongings.  Please be in prayer for this community.

Here is the most recent letter from The Simple Way:

This morning, a 7-alarm fire consumed an abandoned warehouse in our Kensington neighborhood in Philadelphia. The Simple Way Community Center at 3200 Potter Street was destroyed as well as at least eight of our neighbors’ homes. Over 100 people were evacuated from their homes, and 400 families are currently without power. Despite this developing tragedy, we are incredibly thankful to share that all of our community members and every one of our neighbors is safely out of harm’s way.

This fire will forever change the fabric of our community. Eight families are currently homeless, and in many cases have lost their vehicles as well as their homes. One of our neighbors, the Mahaias Family, lost their three cars as well as the equipment one family member uses for her massage therapy business. Teenager Brian Mahaias is devastated not because he has lost his belongings, but because he fears that this fire will force him to move away from this neighborhood that is his family as well as his home.

The Simple Way has lost a community center that was home to our Yes! And… afterschool program, community arts center, and Cottage Printworks t-shirt micro-business as well as to two of our community members. Community members Shane Claiborne and Jesce Walz have lost all of their belongings, Yes! And…’s after school studio and library were ruined, and community member Justin Donner’s Cottage Printworks equipment and t-shirts were destroyed.

We are thankful that we are able to help each other during this time of need, and we will continue to keep your informed about today’s events.

We have established funds to support the families who have lost their homes, the Yes! And… afterschool program, and the Simple Way community.

A fund to support the families has been established through a partner organization, EAPE. Tax-deductible donations can be made at https://www.tonycampolo.org/online_donation.php . Please make sure to put “Kensington Families Fund ” in the memo section.

Donations to the Rebuilding Fund can be made via PayPal to contribute@awip.us.

-The Simple Way Community

American Christianity and Vows of Stability

Posted by on June 4, 2007 11 comments

I’ve written previously on my own ecclesial location within the New Monasticism, which is a movement of sorts among protestants today who are seeking to re-appropriate the monastic traditions in moving towards different forms of intentional community.  One of the central elements of my own congregation’s form of life together involves a practice closely akin to the Benedictine vow of stability, namely of promising permanence of place, one to another.

 In the most recent book to appear on the New Monasticism, entitled Inhabiting the Church, Jon Stock, one of the authors, and a pastor in my church makes the following statement about our practice of taking on vows of stability:

 Our primary concern in the making of this vow is with the creation of a polis that is shaped by the character of God as revealed in Jesus and the Scriptures.  We desire a polis that is held together by obedience to God.  Yet we so often fail (Hos 4:1; Jer 25:31).  Thank God that his loyalty is greater than our own, and that we find forgiveness in it.  Our covenants form the social function of creating a particular type of stability (e.g. marriage covenants).  Is it even possible to from a “place” or a “community” fragrant with God’s shalom without entering into such vows?  We have always answered this question with a “No!”  And so, all member mutually affirm the Statement of Commitment, one to another.  We share out vow before God, allowing him to be party to it.  (p. 111)

So, the statement that I want to call attention to is the last few sentences of this paragraph.  Today, particularly in evangelical and emerging-type churches there is all kinds of talk of “community” and “place” where “authentic relationship” takes place.  However, the question this paragraph raises is whether churches in that form really can be such a thing as an authentic place or community.  How is true intimacy, true ‘one-to-anotherness’ possible in an ecclesial context in which members of a given church are free to move where they wish at the whims of their careers, families, or preferences?  Even when faithful people, with the best of intentions seek to live authentically in those contexts, it seems to me that there is a culture of provisionality always already presupposed in the forging of relationships in ecclesial life.  The fact is that people’s relationships in most American churches are entirely provisional, and dispensable and everybody knows it. 

This form of provisional relationality that obtains in most American churches today is nothing like what we behold in the character of Yahweh’s hesed, his boundless loyalty to his covenant people.  This is nothing like the radical attachment and incarnational love of the persons of the Holy Trinity who suffer the sin of the world in Christ for our salvation.  Yahweh, the Triune God of the Bible is a God who is supremely invested in binding himself to a people and sticking it out with them through thick and thin, even when that has to mean some pretty tough love.  The “authentic relationship” that is offered in most churches today is a plastic sentimentality, and an occasional fraternity established mostly on the basis of common interested and similar socio-economic positions in life.  All of which is engaged in under the assumption that no one is ultimately committed to the other.  At the end of the day, each Christian has their own life, and is free to go their separate ways, and woe to anyone who would claim the gospel might want to jack around that ideology of freedom.

 So, the question I put forth is this:  Is this quotation right?  Is a vow of stability, really the only way to create an authentic community and place?  If not, how can the cultural of provisionality and transience in the conventional church be overcome? 

New Monks, New Friars

Posted by on May 1, 2007 8 comments

As some of you all know I am part of a church that is among those in the movement known as the New Monasticism. It consists largely of small churches across the United States whose members live in close geographical proximity to one another, seek to relocate to the abandoned places of the empire, nurture a common life, live under a common rule (though the content of such a “rule” is pretty fluid between and even within communities), and practice Christian initiation, and a number of other such marks.

So, when I encountered a new book by Scott Bessenecker entitled The New Friars, I was intrigued. Bessenecker distinguishes the New Friars movement from the New Monasticism in a couple of ways. First, he explicitly notes that the New Monastics more closely resemble the pattern of cloistered order than a mission order, which the New Friars model themselves after. Or, to put it another way, for the New Monastics it is often St. Benedict who is the primary influence from the ‘old’ monasticism whereas for the New Friars, the stronger influence is St. Francis.

Bessenecker identifies the New Friars as an emerging group of radically mission-minded young Christians who take seriously a vocation of living among and serving the urban poor of the world establishing communities and fostering partnerships in such marginalized contexts. Central to his description of these New Friars is their vows of intentional marginalization.

The second feature that I’ve noticed thus far in reading Bessenecker’s book is that, for all of the commitment of the New Friars to communal living, the keeping of vows, and the practice of rule, this movement is notably less ecclesially centered than the kindred commitments of New Monastics. The movement also seems more centrally composed of young singles than families, and somewhat more nomadic in their mode of missionality. Whereas for the New Monastics a vow of stability and commitment to a given people is central, this seems to be different for the New Friars, or at least take a very different from.

It remains to be seen what the fruits of both of these movements will be. My own wonderings are how churches might establish partnerships, or sisterhoods between more monastic-style congregations and more friar-style communities that would strengthen both. For the moment, though we all should just thank God for the ways in which western protestants are reappropriating the monastic tradition. Adolf von Harnack was surely right in his statements about monasticism:

It was always the monks who saved the church when sinking, emancipated her when becoming enslaved to the world, defended her when assailed. These it was that kindled hearts that were growing cold, bridled refactory spirits, recovered for the church alienated nations.

(Adolf von Harnack, Monasticism: Its Ideals and History [London: Williams & Norgate, 1901, Reprint, Wipf and Stock Publishers], p. 64ff)

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