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Simplicity in the Rule of Benedict: II

 

by Terrence Kardong, O.S.B.

 

This year Bro. Placid showed up for the Fourth of July picnic with a friend, the orphan-calf, Silly Sally. He decked out Sally with red ribbons for the occasions, and patriotic straw hat for himself.

Integrity: Moral Simplicity (I)

 

Physical frugality is not the only form that simplicity can take. At a deeper, subtler level, it can mean a state of personal integration based on the Latin word simplex, meaning that which is one piece, not fragmented or dispersed. That is the usual meaning of the word in the Bible, and it means a kind of basic honesty and sincerity where the inside is the same as the outside. What you see is what you get. Only a complex creature like the human being, composed of body and spirit, can be said to have the virtue of simplicity. All other beings are simple by nature, not by choice or virtue. But human beings are prone to personal fragmentation and dispersion, and we are also capable of duplicity. In short, we can be devious cheats and liars.

 

St. Benedict certainly wants his monks to possess a basic integrity and sincerity. In his so-called Instruments of Good Works (RB 4), he gives two maxims: “Speak the truth both in your heart and your mouth” (4.28) and “do not wish to be called holy before you really are” (4.62). In both cases he wants the inside and the outside to be the same. In his chapter on humility, he insists that this value be both deeply felt in the heart (RB 7.51) and exhibited in external behavior (7.62-66).

 

In regard to the abbot, the spiritual leader of the monastery, we might assume that such a person would be characterized by solid integrity. Benedict, however, does not take this for granted. He bluntly demands that the abbot should personally model what he teaches (RB 2.11-15). The reason he gives is that some people do not learn well by words; they need example. But the implication is that a teacher who acts differently than he teaches is what the Bible calls a hypocrite; and a hypocrite cannot be an effective teacher. Perhaps sophisticated students can distinguish doctrine from person, but we always teach more by our actions than by our words. Besides, history shows that power has a tendency to corrupt; the power of Benedict's abbot is near enough to absolute to make this a serious concern.

 

But simplicity of spirit goes beyond integrity. Benedict also wants to see in his monks a kind of artless sincerity that causes them to say what they mean and mean what they say. He expects to hear the truth from everyone, at least as they perceive it. He does not believe that we can solve problems by suppressing honest opinion. If we do, people will become devious and that's a real problem. For example, when the monks are called together to counsel (RB 3), Benedict makes sure that even the youngest members are asked their opinions. When monks think they are being asked impossible things in the name of obedience, they are encouraged to express their difficulties to the abbot (RB 68). In both cases, of course, this is to be done humbly, but there is no premium put on hiding one's true feelings or opinions.

 

We are reminded here of Jesus' admonition to be “wise as serpents and simple as doves.” That was a saying that intrigued monastic and mystical writers throughout the patristic and middle ages. Jesus also sometimes referred to his followers as “children” and “infants.” This has sometimes caused commentators to launch into tirades against the wise and learned of this world, but I doubt if the two things are incompatible, much less contradictory. Some wise and learned people also manage to remain very simple. To be simple, one does not need to be a simpleton. Some people are naturally na?ve and not clever, but that does not in itself make them good Christians. Recall the “second simplicity” we talked about at the beginning.

 

Benedict calls for a level of honesty and forthrightness that are almost hard to imagine in our more sophisticated times. For example, he wants the monks to freely confess their faults to the community; and he is quite harsh with them if they do not. He also expects them to share their inner lives with a “spiritual senior.” In this he is like the Desert Fathers, who built a whole system of spiritual guidance on the willingness of the disciple to open his heart completely to the master. And it is interesting that the Rule of the Master speaks of the same need, noting that some are ashamed out of “simplicity” to open their faults and sins for healing. Benedict does not use that word in RB 46.5-6, perhaps because he does not want to confuse the issue. For him, simplicity is precisely what impels the monk to share his inner life with a guide.

 

We have noted that Benedict does not use the word simplex very much, but he does discuss the idea in other words. Wholeness or integrity is an important theme in RB 73, the epilogue of the Rule, where it appears in the term “perfection.” This is not obvious in English, but Latin perfectum means fully made or complete. We usually think it means “flawless,” but that is not its meaning in Mt 5:48 where it refers to God's completeness in taking care of both the good and the bad. In fact, the Hebrew Bible often speaks of the tamin of God and requires the Jew to emulate it. Like the Jews, we monks have no hope of imitating God's flawlessness, but we can try to be inclusive in our love.

 

 

3. Focus: Moral Simplicity (II)

 

Another moral connotation of “simple” pertains to aim or direction. Here it is not so much a matter of being complete as of being focused on one goal. The alternative, of course, is to scatter one's efforts all over the landscape. Such dispersion results in a dissipation of effort and finally in the fragmentation of the self. So it is a matter of priorities: find the real target, stay aimed at it and do not lose your focus.

 

One of Benedict's most famous expressions seems to echo this kind of thinking. In his chapter on the training of novices, he remarks that the qualities to be sought in a good candidate are these: “One must note whether he really seeks God, and whether he is serious about the work of God, obedience and hardships.” The last reference to hardship is intriguing, but we won't linger on it here. What interests us is the requirement that the novice “really seeks God.” Every Benedictine knows this phrase, which tends to be brought up in monastic chapter meetings as a kind of shorthand for everything that is good in a monk. Unfortunately, it often seems to be devoid of any particular content.

 

After all, it is rather obvious that the novice should be seeking God! That's the least that we can ask of someone who comes to a Christian monastery, but this is also requisite for every Christian and every religious person. What else is religion but the quest for God? Actually, some theologians would insist with St. John that “the great thing is not that we have loved God but that he has loved us,” that is, sought us and found us. That is the only reason we are able to “seek God--because God has found us. But here we are more interested in the human response.

 

I would suggest that the adverb revera is all important here. In my 1996 version of the Rule, I translated it as “really” but now I don't know if that is fully adequate. And I notice that I do not give an exegetical note for it, so apparently I did not give it any extra thought. Let me do that here. In connection with simplicity, it seems that it must mean that God is one's primary focus. Admittedly, people have joined and still do join monasteries for other reasons than the quest for God. They may not know it, but they do, and it is the job of the novice master to help them clarify their motivation. I would have to confess that for many of us it may take years to even find out why we really joined the monastery.

 

At any rate, I would now propose to translate it “seeks God alone.” But this is still a slippery and even dangerous idea. What does it mean to “seek God alone”? Surely it must be a matter of the will, both ours and God's. Am I determined to seek out and obey the will of God? Am I willing to undertake a radical search for that will, even to the point of allowing someone else to mediate that will to me--someone like an abbot? Am I willing to undertake the traditional monastic renunciations of marriage and property to symbolize my quest for that will? Yet Christian marriage involves the same idea in different form: I vow to seek God alone in relationship with this particular spouse.

 

The enterprise of seeking God alone is by no means obvious. None of us can or should sit all day in a room alone meditating on God or praying to God. Life requires involvement with the multiplicity of the world, with many persons and things. Clearly our quest for God's will must come in and through these secondary concerns. I agree with Raimondo Panikkar that monasticism can no longer be a pessimistic rejection of these worldly concerns. We need to seek God alone in and through this wonderful, fascinating and absorbing world. Yet it is all too easy to become absorbed in all of this multiplicity and lose our primary focus. Then the primary Benedictine question needs to be reviewed: Do I really seek God alone?

 

Benedict makes the same point in another passage that is worth quoting in full: “Just as there is an evil and bitter zeal that separates one from God and leads to hell, so too there is a good zeal that separates one from evil and leads to God and eternal life” (RB 72.1-2). The word “zeal” is not too common in ordinary English parlance, but Benedict explains in the next sentence that he really means love. Still, he does employ the evocative word zeal, and it is significant.

 

Zeal is extraordinary psychic and spiritual energy for some object. The word even sounds aggressive; it is anything but inert! Yet even though zeal is eminently purposeful, it is still neutral for it can go in any direction. In other words, it can have a bad or good goal. Now love is clearly aimed in the right direction, and its opposite must be hate, the bitter zeal that Benedict is talking about in this verse. The crucial thing is that zeal be aimed in the right direction; otherwise the consequences can be tragic.

 

(To be continued)

Continued from the July issue