The first time I remember coming into this cathedral through the west door I was simply overawed by the great nave, and the way the pillars unified the structure, and led my eyes east to the altar and as though to Christ.
Our Gospel reading poses the rich young man’s question: ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’ And Jesus gave him an answer. Benedict’s interpretation of Jesus’s answer has gone round the world. The Rule of St Benedict and his vision of monastic life helped convert Europe including England, and has penetrated our culture and institutions in subtle and lasting ways.
Benedict lived through an age of social and economic chaos which followed the break-up of the Western Roman empire. He grew up with corruption, poverty, greed and violence on every level. His response was to begin a small-scale experiment in trying to live the Gospels.
We know very little more about his life. Pope Gregory the Great wrote a biography of him but admits that the details of Benedict’s life were obscure. Only in his Rule for monks, Gregory says, can we still hear his voice:
‘Listen, child of God’ Benedict says, ‘Listen to the guidance of your teacher…my words are addressed to you especially, whoever you may be, whatever your circumstances, who turn from the pursuit of your own self-will and ask to enlist under Christ who is Lord of all…’
‘Whoever you may be, whatever your circumstances, who urn from the pursuit of your own self-will.’ How odd that sounds these days when the human will is given such prominence, where our belief that we can be whatever we wish, that we can buy whatever we want, that we can achieve whatever we desire, has taken over our culture and penetrated into the marrow of our being, even in the church.
There is a story of Benedict which reveals the heart of his teaching. Near to his experimental monastery a zealous hermit had chained himself to a rock beside a cave. Benedict sent him a message, ‘If you are truly a servant of God, do not chain yourself with chains of iron. Let Christ be the chain that binds you.’
Benedict understood the hermit’s zeal but suspected that chaining himself to a rock was going to lead nowhere except pride and contempt for the rest of the world. And this will never work because it is the world that God loves. So Benedict gently reminded the hermit, as he reminds us, that the foundation of any Christian life is not our own drive, or talent, or burning sense of mission, but Christ. Christ who prayed but also feasted, Christ who suffered, and also rejoiced, Christ who spun the Gospel from stories of wheat and weeds, pigs and pearls. The story of the rich young ruler speaks to us all of the attractiveness of Christ, but also of our temptation to want to make Christ another possession, another thing we can control: ‘What must I do to inherit eternal life?’. The young man is sure the secret lies within his grasp. Christ’s response is that the life he seeks does not depend on his doing anything, but on an act of undoing; letting go his wealth, his self-will, his pride.
The way of Christ is so sane that it enrages us. The young man turns away, smarting. Yet it is to the ancient and indestructible wisdom of Christ that Benedict calls and recalls us, again and again. We do not need to re-market the Christian faith, we do not need to always be exciting or innovative. The Benedictine life is about stability. The Benedictine way is first, that it is moderate, measured. Then that it is about solidarity living a common life, and then about how we organize ourselves, the principle of subsidiarity.
First, moderation, measure. The Benedictines developed the idea that time could be measured by the clock or the bell: that there were set times for worship, study, work, meals, recreation, sleep. Living by measure, living by time, made them great farmers, scholars, teachers. They didn’t go around talking about Jesus, and seeking new ways to worship, they just lived the life and prayed. Nothing showy, nothing in excess. Many of our contemporary self-help books tell us what Benedict knew: get up at the same time each day. Eat and drink sensibly. Make room for gratitude. Get enough sleep.
The second aspect of the Benedictine way is solidarity. ‘Listen, child of God…’ he says. Listening is crucial. It’s only giving up the space to another’s voice, that we hear the voice of Christ. Benedict’s Rule is not an Alpha Course – it doesn’t tell us anything about having a personal relationship with Jesus or how to be filled with the Holy Spirit. Benedict gives no advice on personal prayer, except that it should be brief. Christian life according to Benedict is assault on the ever-hungry ego which is always trying to snatch power for its own projects and schemes. The Gospel truth is that we are all in it together, there is a common wealth to be shared and distributed, and it is in living with and for one another that we are reorientated towards Christ. The Abbot is told in the Rule that he will hear the voice of Christ most clearly in those who are not normally listened to. The young. Those who complain a lot. The vulnerable.
Living by measure. Solidarity, And then finally subsidiarity. This is about giving way and letting be. In his teaching about community living Benedict insists that the Abbot must be chosen by the whole community for his qualities of discernment, of judgement of character. The Abbot then appoints individuals to specific roles. But there is no micromanagement, they are to get on with the job they’ve been given. Power is shared, power is given, power is devolved. There is no central plan. Each monastery is local, grounded, stable.
The Rule has influenced the Church of England in its worship. It’s also influenced the traditional balance of power between local and regional, parish and diocese, lay and ordained. If the Church of England were trying to live by Benedict’s rule today I think we would be focusing on the long term, on moderation and measure, habit and reliability, on listening to the young and the discontented and being a refuge for the poor, the sick and the sad.
Would we be seeking out ‘outstanding’ leaders, creating a talent pool, centralizing the business of the Church – pushing novel forms of leadership and ministry? I’m not sure. Pope John 23 has advice which might be helpful to the new Bishop: ‘See everything, overlook a lot, correct a little’. The wisdom is here in the architecture. Solidarity, subsidiarity, measure. The Rule of Benedict with Christ, the Cornerstone. It’s all here. Even the very stones cry out.
Angela Tilby
Canon Emeritus of Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford
Canon of Honour, Portsmouth Cathedral