Franciscan Oblates of The Holy Spirit

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            About the time that I converted to Christ, I decided to enter a monastery. Someone who knew me quite well dissuaded me from doing so.  I was quite comfortable with the vows of poverty and obedience, but lifelong celibacy did not match either my calling or my personality.

            Fortunately, this was not my final experience with monasticism.  My initial inclination, significantly influenced by Thomas Merton, couldn’t be shaken. Monasticism’s prophetic stance, ordered life, emphasis upon silence and prayer, sense of community balanced by solitude, and its ancient history all appealed to me.

About fifteen years ago I committed myself to the Society of St. John the Evangelist (Cowley Fathers) through their lay associates, the Fellowship of St. John.  This commitment, governed by “The Rule of the Fellowship of St. John,” has played a critical role in my life as a Christian.  Although I lived a consistently disciplined life during the preceding ten years, my association with the Fellowship helped to “strengthen [my] abiding in Christ by bringing rhythm, order and balance to [my] discipleship.”1 This article, very broadly based upon this Rule, will outline a number of reasons why, I believe, any believer (even those, like myself, who are highly disciplined) could benefit from such an association.

PRAYER

            Above all else, monasticism is concerned with prayer. Although every religious Order will have a slightly different emphasis, prayer is the common denominator among them all.  Monks and monasteries exist for the purpose of prayer and worship.  “ A monk’s outward and inward life [is] dominated by the opus Dei (‘the work of God’), an unceasing round of prayer…”2 The cycle of daily prayers – Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers, Compline – orders a monk’s life.

            This is critical to spiritual direction and personal transformation. Guidance and growth, albeit mystery is inherent to both, are dependent upon prayer. The person who learns to pray well, will learn to live well.  Divine conversation must always precede dynamic human interaction and authentic transformation from the inside out.

SACRAMENTS

            The Sacraments, and most especially Holy Eucharist (Holy Communion, The Lord’s Supper), communicate a heavenly grace that sanctifies material and everyday events and individuals. The physical water of baptism cleanses the sinful soul, tangible bread and wine becomes the body and blood of Christ, and anointing oil becomes a means of divine healing. Physical and “spiritual,” temporal and eternal are united through the Sacraments. They are a window to and a channel for heavenly intervention.

            Monasticism demonstrates sacramental living.  The monastery, with all of its shortfalls, is aimed at being a little bit of heaven on earth.  It is sacred space where, away from the distractions of the world, God can be purely pursued.  Monasticism began as a protest against the church’s accommodations to the world.  It developed into a nurturing community (although some lived reclusively) where spiritual direction and renewal could be sought.  Colleges and hospitals also emerged from this movement.  Spiritual direction, formation and transformation are inherent to monastic practice. As such, monasticism can be seen and understood as an incarnational movement where the ministries of prophet, priest/pastor, healer and teacher are all cultivated and shared.

            Every one of us who seek to be transformed into the image of God in Christ by the Holy Spirit need to learn this monastic lesson.  We must all learn to recognize the seed of eternity in every living thing.  We must learn to live and think sacramentally: where we become both the mirror and window of the eternal.  We must become far more incarnational: where, according to the image of God becoming Man, there is no distinction between the temporal and the eternal.  We must become so practically involved in the lives of other people (a natural result of mature prayer) that conversation and conversion are almost synonymous terms.  When we embrace such practices, when we become practically sacramental, the ordinary becomes the extraordinary.

FEASTS AND FASTS

            Many believers have lost touch with life’s seasons and cycles.  Fortunately there are many churches that maintain and celebrate “the rhythm of the Church year.”3  Monasteries maintain this “life of Christ lived out again in liturgical time,” this remembering and reliving of the life of Christ.4

            How often have we felt like the passing of time was meaningless?  How often have we felt like life was vain? Be honest. Don’t respond with what you know to be true, respond viscerally, from the gut, from where you really live.  At one time or another, we may have all felt this way.  Living within the liturgical seasons, being able with the aid of the church kalendar and Christian community to walk with Christ, can help to address this deep sense of vanity and “chasing after wind.”

            Monks, as well as those who seek to follow their lead, walk through life accompanied with tangible reminders (as well as the objective reality) of Christ. His “seasons” become their seasons.  Advent, Lent, Easter and Pentecost (among other feasts and fasts) become far more than just holidays or holy days.  Saints of the Day become spiritual friends along the way.  Seasons, again like sacraments, channel the presence of our Lord in a unique way.  We can participate in this active remembering and reliving of Christ’s life should we choose to do so.

DAILY OFFICE

            St. Benedict tells us that the Divine Office (which may also include the Sacraments) should be preferred, or have precedence, over every other activity (Rule 43:3).  The Daily Office, when done thoroughly and properly, provides an opportunity for well-rounded prayer.  Have you ever felt like your prayer life is just not “cutting it?”  Have you, using (in fact, misusing) the words of T.S. Eliot, “wept and fasted, wept and prayed,” and still felt like you were coming away empty, that the heavens were like brass? There may be many reasons for this sense of absence, abandonment and failure: disobedience, “dark nights,” the need for maturity and obedience, and sickness are among a few.  One other reason may be that you may not be praying completely or consistently in community.  Complete, consistent and community prayer are vital to a vibrant faith.

            The importance of prayer was driven home to me very early in my Christian walk.  Initially I prayed very little.  After falling on my face, I learned to pray a lot.  Now I’m learning to pray ceaselessly.  But, even after I learned to pray consistently, I needed to learn the value of complete and community prayer.  Sure I’d pray, but, upon examining scripture and other sources such as Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline and Prayer, I discovered that my prayer was lopsided. I was, so to speak, “flying with one wing.”  Petition ranked high, but many other features of prayer were notably absent.  Community prayer, on a daily basis, even when I was in my “closet” at home and alone, was also lacking.  Prayer Meetings and Cell Groups were just not enough. 

The Daily Office, exercised through the 1928 and 1549 Book of Common Prayer5, helped me with this.  Now I can say, albeit recognizing my failures, that my prayers are far more well rounded.  Moreover, when I pray the Office from the Book of Common Prayer I am assured that I am praying orthodox Christian prayers that are shared by countless others who, throughout the day, pray the same prayers.  My prayers are now more complete, consistent and rooted within the historic Christian community. It must also be stated that such a practice in no way impedes my being profoundly responsive to the leading of the Holy Spirit.  Form and freedom are not, necessarily, at odds.

            As spiritual direction and authentic transformation are intimately and inextricably related to prayer (which is not just a set of mechanics, but a powerful mystery) it is advised that anyone who is genuinely concerned about salvation and sanctification align themselves with the monastic practice of the Daily Office.

STUDY

            Most of us are familiar with St. Paul’s words, “study to show yourself approved.”   This, as we are all well aware, was not just an admonishment to St. Timothy. We are all called to study.  If we are going to live on the growing edge of life, we must all learn to study.

            The monastic movement took this admonishment seriously. They still do.  But their study was and is not as disjointed and disconnected as we western Christians experience today in our public schools, colleges, universities and churches.  All study, whether scientific or devotional (again, there need not be any contradiction between the two), was aimed at transforming the monk into the image and likeness of Christ. Every act, even the picking up of a piece of straw (according to Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection), was aimed at the glory of God and the transformation of humanity.

            I have, by the grace of God, learned to embrace and celebrate this principle. People have stated that I am brilliant and knowledgeable.  In reality, I am not. Far from it. The older I get, the more I realize how very little I actually know..  What I have learned to master is the art and discipline of reading and studying wisely.  I cannot know it all. There are just too many subjects and disciplines for me to know. As a result, and for many years, I have narrowed down my field of study to one discipline, one center. This center is, for me, theology. Everything in my reading or study revolves around this center.  As such, when reading about art, I read those books that deal with art and theology.  The same holds true for psychology, counseling, science, philosophy, mathematics or any other discipline. Somehow theology must be involved.  Why? There is only so much of me to go around.  I need to bear down upon that which is most important, upon those things that will help me to both know and grow.  I do not wish to know unless it will help me to grow.

            Spiritual growth cannot occur without study.  There is no doubt about this. Thomas a Kempis, in his devotional classic The Imitation of Christ, stated that the greatest form of study is about who we are   (I:2:4a). He is not being humanistic in his assertion.  His suggestion is spoken within the framework of orthodox Catholic theology, Holy Scripture and received tradition.  If we are to grow we will need, within the confines of orthodoxy and relationship, to know ourselves. Once again the monks have given us some direction about spiritual formation.6

RETREAT

            One of the expectations of an Associate of the Fellowship of St. John is that we go on a retreat at least once a year.  We need to encounter our selves and God. Solitude, silence and prayer are essential to this encounter.7 These disciplines, solitude in particular, are the “furnace of transformation.” 8

            Our world is far too busy and loud.  Even our social engagements are really not social.  They are rarely relational. They are appointments and reservations and expectations.  Contemplative living is almost unheard of.  Rush, not reflection, is the order of the day.

            We subscribe to and participate in this dangerous lifestyle.  We may not believe in it, but we behave as if we do.  In the car, or when at home alone, we turn on the television or radio.  We participate in useless chatter. We go to huge shopping malls because we are afraid of being alone (the dark humor of this is ironic). Prayer, for many, is like a quick snack between one appointment and the next. 

            We’re a mess. A retreat, punctuated by solitude, silence and prayer (and hopefully aided by a spiritual director), can help us to order our lives.  Ordered prayer comes from an ordered life.  Ordered living comes from ordered listening. Service comes from solitude, silence and prayer. According to Henri Nouwen, the words of the Desert Father Arsenius (“pray always”) literally mean “come to rest.”9  Don’t we all need to learn to come to rest?  Rest, restoration, renewal and revival all come from the proper use of retreat.  We must make room for God to speak. As a general rule, God is encountered in the “still small voice” and not through the “whirlwind” of our frantic activities.

RELATIONSHIP

            Monasticism is fundamentally about relationship. Many people think that monasticism is simply about fleeing from the world.  To be sure, in some small sense it is.  Fleeing the corruption of the world, as well as our own self-centered inclinations, are central to spiritual growth.  However, fleeing corruption does not mean that we flee community.  Entering the monastery, or living the life of an Associate or Oblate, is for the purpose of encountering society.  Like Jesus and his disciples, we draw away in order to be able to minister more effectively.  Any person who considers entering a monastery in order to avoid people and problems – although rarely stated this way or so bluntly – has misunderstood the message of monasticism.  Solitude is for service. Silence is for speech. Cloister is for community. Prayer is for people. Separation is for encounter.

            Thomas Merton is a good example of this, as are members of the Abbey at which I receive spiritual direction.  Merton, although a monk principally stationed in Kentucky, ministered to the world.  He wanted to be a solitary, and eventually was granted this gift, but was also thrust into public service.  Many monks throughout history had the same experience.  Members of St. Andrew’s Abbey travel the world, teaching being one of their principal forms of outreach.  The Society of St. John the Evangelist ministers to the inner city poor.  And even if a monastery is completely devoted to prayer, where they never leave their grounds or engage in any other form of ministry, isn’t unceasing prayer  a gift to the world? Love calls us into seclusion and out to serve.  They form the life-breath of healthy Christian spirituality.

           
Me? A Monk?  Although becoming a monk is a unique calling, the principles and practices of monastic living are expected of all those who seek to abide in Christ. Common prayer, Sacraments, feasts, fasts, the Daily Office, study, retreat and relationship – among other monastic disciplines – can help to form us into the likeness of our Lord. 

Donald P. Richmond, a frequently published author, occasional college lecturer and Adjunct Faculty at Laud Hall Seminary, is a Certified Spiritual Director and priest with the United Anglican Church.