Early and medieval Christian monastic spirituality - a study in meaning and trends (Thesis)

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H.A.

ROBERTS, Jeff E.

Religious

Studie~

Early & me~ieval' christian monastic spirituality.

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EARLYi AND MEDIEVAL CHRISTIAN MONASTIC SPIRITUALITY:

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A STUDY IN MEANING AND , TRENDS

by Jeff

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Roberts

A Thesis Submitted To The Faculty Of Graduate Studies And Research In Partial 'Fulf ilment Of The Requirements For The Degree Of Master Of ~rts

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Faculty Of Religious Studie's McGi~l university Montreal

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,August, 1177 " 0-

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e Jeff

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ABSTRACT , ,

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, ,This thesis will explore the.rneaning of the

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Christian èontemplative monasttc life,as it was stood by the early,Egyptia~ rnoflks pf the fourth

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the primitive-Benedictine~ of the

the early

cisterc~ans

of the twelth century.

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que&tio~ i t asks is twofoid.

F~rst, 'how qid the

inreach of these historical periods orde4 their lives-

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as individuals and as a c~mmunity, and to what end?6 Se~on9.,

what particular modality of Chris'tian qiscip-

lëship'and witness did such a,lifé r~present in the Cpurcll and in the world

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period?

Th~

answer to \

this quesÜen ~ill al~o take into consideration the , ,\ response of the hierarchy of the Church te the ideals ,

and practices of

-th~.

.

The study will conclude

'of ~om~ ~~~~ci~~ends in " monast~ -----of Christian contemplativ~

with a discussion and dimensions J

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ospirituality_-

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Résumé

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çette' thèse explorer'a le sens de l

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vie! rndhastique

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contemplative 'chrétienne tel que compris par les mdihes

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aégyptiens primitifs du quatrième siècle, les ..

bén~dic-

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tins primi~fs du sixième siècle et les èisterciens . p~imitifs

du douxième sièc'le.

Jonsidér~e

qui se pose ,peut être

fo~darnentale

La question

SQus -deux aspects.

Premièrement, comment les moines ont-ils reglé leur vie ,

~e. communauté ..,

dans chaque de

ces époques historiques, et à-quel Dut?

D~u~ièmlment,

comme individus et comme , '

quelle modalité particulière de 'la vie chrétienne r~p'résentait la vie monastique dans monde de cette époque? tiendra

~ompte

~Iéglise

La response

et dans

le

à cette question

aussi de la résponse de l'hiérarchie

de l'église aux idéals et aux pratique!. des moines,.

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L'étude se 'terrninêra avec une discussion de quelques

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tendences et dimensions p~incipales de la spiritualité' monas tique_, contempla ti ve chrétienne. , p

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TABLE~ OF CONTENTS "

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NT RODUgT ION

PAR~' ONE - THE ORIGINS OF MO~ASTICISM •

Section One - The Ascetics

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PART TWO - AN EXPLORATION(,I\OF EARLY EGYPTIAN, PRIMITIVE BENEDICTINE AND EARLY CISTERCIAN MO~rTICISM

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Section Two - Early Egyptian ,

Mon~sticism

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Section Three - 1\P.rimitive Benedictinism

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Section Four - Ear1y Cistèrcian Monasticism

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PART THREE-A STUDY OF TRENDS IN, AND DIMEij'SIONS OF THE CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATIVE MONASTIC LI FE

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Section Five - Wor1dviews And Trends ,

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Section Six - The Monastic Dimensions Of ,comm,/ity ' And Qf Love)

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'NOTES

BIBLIOGRAPHY

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INTRODUCTION •

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It is not my intention te try to

. wr~~e ,

/ a detailed

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and comprehensive history 9f Christian monasticism, of

Christia~'m~nastic theology, or even of Christian monastic spirituality. ~evelopment

of the monastic families un?er

po~nt

from the

do l propose to review the historical

~or

investi~ation

of view of their origins, rise, maturity

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and dec Li:ne •

Rather, my aim in this study is to explore

how' the:, founders and first generations qf, three families

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of christian monks,. together with

hierarchy of the .,. 1 Church, perceived, at particular turning-points in history,

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meaning of the Christian contemplative monastic life

for their times.

This stu'dy Iwill deal with the early .

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Egyptian an~ primitive Benedictine monasticismiof the

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fourth and sixth [centuries of the Roman .

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period~respectively, -

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and with early C~§tercian monasticism of the twe1:fth cel\1;.ury.· .. ,

The question as to the meaning of the Christian con":' ..r 0

/ temPlaJive"monast.ic life has to be seen from twb. related theological perspectives: that of man's relationship to God

in~er-

viz. the vertical 'or ~n

the one hand, and the

horizontal. 'or ,that of man' s re,l}ltionship tp man on thi other.

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(The parousia had not come

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promise afforded by the was not fulfilled.

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expected and somehow the

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.' , . Pentecp~tal outpourin

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of the Spirit

As the years passed_and the Church swelled -

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in nwnbers, the Ugreat grace" (Acts 4:33) ol the ri~en 'Christ to the apostles and first ge'nerations of disciples 'seemed to t

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be disappearing while the quality of Christian living and cornmitrnent~declined.

vitaliby of thè Church' s il'lterior'

life together with the closeness and unit Y of ,its fe11owship, 4 ~ dirnini-shed. Acc~rdingly; the attitudes and expectations of 1

the Church- also,began to change.

W~llistan ~a1ke1

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observed: 1

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As commQn Christian practice becarne 1ess strenuous, however, asceticism grew as the idea1 'the more' serious. Too much must rlot be expected\of common Christians. The Didache,in the first h~lf of thé second century, had exhorted: "If thou ~rt able .ta bear the whoie yoke of the Lord; thou shalt be perfect~ but if thou ar~ not able do tha which 'thou art able." Hermas (ca'. A.D. 100-140' had taught that a man cou1d do more than God dommanded" and w(;mld rece~re a p~oportionate reward .\•• Voluntar~ pove~ty and celïbacy ••• were b~tieved to confer spe;.cia1 merit on those who pract~sed them ••• ' These tendencies but increased. They were ~rea~ly furthered by a distinction between the If advice\1 and the requirements of the Gospel'which was clear1y drawn by Tertul1ian and Origen ••• (The Church I/S) own conception of itself was ~ltering from that of a c~union of saints to that of an . agency for sa1vation. The change was evident in the teach~ng of Bishop Kal1istds of Rome (A.D. 217-222).

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(a) how do the Christian ,cbntem~lative

,monks of any given historical period,order

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, their Lives " end?

(b)

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individuals ind as a community and to what

what mOdality of Christian discipieship and

witness does the Christian contemplative monastic life qa

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represent in the Church and in the ~

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So far as

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of that period?

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know, no one has yet at:.tempted a study of 1

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Christian monastic 'spirituality from the point of view of 1

the shifts in

e~cha~ology

which have 'occurred in theology

durtng the course of Christian history.

Since such an

approach can, l believe, help shed fresh light on our question,

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have ~ecided to'use it. (a) The monks,of the Roman period and of 'the Low Middle

Ages shared the same 'eschatological expectations' in that \

( a)

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According to Richard McBrien, "there are Idiffering views of 1 the Church today because there are differing wàys of, doing theology and djiffe,ring ideas °about eschatology ••• The theology of the Church can only be understood in tl].e larger cont;.~xt of éschatology: at root,' the problem of tne inter-relationships between Church, histoty and 'the Kingdom of God." Church: The Continuing Quest (New Y~rk: Newman Press, 1916), p. 5 '·(emphasis added) .', r have adopted McBr ien 's met1\.od and sha Il use t'.\1e term 'eschatological perspective' in the same technicaLsense in which he understands eschatology. l ~hall us~ the term 'eschatological expectations' in the more ~raditional .sense to refer to both the parousia and the rit'e of theC- "'<' blessed, in heaven. Since r shâll be using both 'escha.'tological perspective' anq 'esçhatological expectations' as te~hnical terms in this study, r shal~ al,ays write them withip inverted commas, as shown above. "".

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they aIl l.o~kèd' forward to the futur~ ,return of Christ and the life of beatitude in heaven.

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These expeotations, hOW-\

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were~odified by ~eir respective

'eschatôlogical '

perspecti~sl which, though in agreement with regard -to

thelpresence of the Kingdom of.God in the world, differed ,

on ,two important points.

First,

~e

time 'of its

çons~tion:'

Second, the dlg ree of emphasis ,thaf should he put. on the'

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orientation of the monastic life tbwards the return of Christ; as oPP?sed to a more single-minded cultivatfon of the life of the Kà.ngdom of God.

Renee, if the Christian contern-

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plative monastic life is a 'timeless charisrn', the

p~rception

( of lit and of its ecclesial and social dimep.sions may alter --------1

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from age 'to age according to the historical shif'ts in the

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esc~atolOgiC~rspectivi'~ -

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proper to each age": r•

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shall use t11e "term 'Kingdom of God 1 in this paper ~

to describe the sovereignty and

ac~ivity ~f/GOd

in history

and hum an experience, and not a territory allegedly ruled )

by Hirn- or an institution (l.e. Il

'the visible Church') ~llegedty

) (

identifiable with His activity.

So far as Christian theology

is concerned, God ac~s f~rst ànd man then responds - either o

positively or negatiyely - to that saving activity.

One

can, however, place the emphas~ on God' s activity

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or on man s respons~.·

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l Jihall dQ the latter.

A positive. respons~ represents an act of obedienc~

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taking upon oneself the

new law') of the Kingdom of God

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and an appro-

~riation

.f the dynal}1ics of the Kingdom, that is, the grace

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In speaking of the inter-reîationshiips between
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the Kirlgdo~ of God, the Church and history in a rnonastic ' context,. therefore, l am referring specifically to -th.e monks' understanding of their owl

ori~nta~ion

towards, and appropriao

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tion ~~ t~e dynamics of, the 'Kingddm o~ God.

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we may also approach our ~

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~fore-mentioned

Consequently,

twofold question

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in :the.. following way. periods unde; review the Jill of God?

How did the I11:0nks in each of the '"

resp~d

to what'they perceived to be

nid 'they believe that their

consequen~

,way of life distinguished them in sorne way from other Christians?

And finally"

what was the response of the l"~

hierarchy in its turn to the ideals and pra1ctices, of the rnonks? Part One comprises section one of this paper and will ~

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introduce our study of the monastic spirituality df the

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Roman period and of the LOW.Middle Ages by briefly' revie~ ing trie devélopments in the Church which led to the emergence of
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It willodiscuss the self-understand-

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th~

ing antl orientation of

forerunners of the monks, the,

ascetics: second, sorne of the trends which characterized the, relations between the ascet±cs and the hierarchy: and

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finally

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.., principal reasons for which the

a~cètics

lit

chose

to abandon the general society of men in favour of (what

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was soon to'be called) the monastic life of the

desert.~

R,art Two represents the m9in body of this inquiry and '~

comprises sections two through' four.

Each

s~ction

nere wil).

be subdivided int? two chapters, the f irst dealing wi th

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question.,2, the second w:j..th question b. (a)

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Section two is concerned with early Egyptian monasticism.

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Louis Bouyer, in his study of Egyptian'monasticism,2 disf

ting~ishes betweeri" Othe simple and evangelical movement led by Anthony, Pachomi'us, Macarius of Egypt and t;he other Copts on the one hand, and the later and more sophistica.ted 'erudite

mona~tici~m' developed by Basil Qf Caesarea and John Cassian 1

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on the ot.her.

l shall adhere to this distinction in th:Ï.s

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paper, and place the emphasis upoh the former, Coptic movement.

The focus within the Coptic movement itself will be

(a) Cf. supra p. 2. This is only a loose distinction, however, since material dealing, strictly spe9king, with the concerns of one question will sometim~s be introduced or elaborated upon in the other chapter. Consequently, it ~s l'argely a matter 6f em~s.

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upon Antonine qUàsi-eremi tisrn and only secondarily upon

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pachcmian cenobitisrn.

l shall outline the principal' char-

acteristics of Basilian and 'Alexandrian ' (a) rnonasticism 1.

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primarily in order either to contrast thern with or to note

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their influence upon coptic, primitive Benedictine and early

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~ist:ercian

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monasticisrn •

Section three deals with primitive Benedictine monasticism.

The terrn 'primitive Benedictine 1 is used to denote

the original pre-Gregorian Benedictine ideal as it is seen l'

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in the Rule Of st. Benedict and in the monastlc obse:~:'Vances '-

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and, regimen of those monasteries which subscribed to its , ?

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authority.

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Section four will look at the monastic self-understanding

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and practiçe of ear ly Cistercian monasticism, especially as

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seen in the teaching of Bernard of Clairvaux.

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The primary

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emphasis in thi,s section will be upon the cistercian vision

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of t:he 1 ife of the Kin,gdom of God.

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P'art Three conc ludes this study and comprises sections

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five and si;x.

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It will explore sorne major trends in, and

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(a) The term 'Alexandrian' refers principally to the teaching of John Cass'ian. His thought was heavily influenced by Clement and Origer! of Alex'andria by way of the latter 1 s monastic interpreter, Evagrius of Pontus. Hence, it is a conceptual, not a geographical, distinction.

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dimensions of, the Christian contemplative monastic life

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of the Roman period and of, the Low Middle Ages • Section five will provide a brief analysis of the general monastic- self-understanding and worldview of the Roman per iod and of the Low Middle Ages in the light of their respective 'eschatolog ical perspectives'.

It will

then cover the principal trends in the relationship between

ni the monks and the hierarchy in the context of the question of monastic so1i tude. Section six will examine the monastic cornmunity per

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from the point of view both of its functional chatacter

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as an institution oriented towards the cultivation of grace, and of its-charismatic character as an epiphany of the Christ-centered and Spirit-filled life. of this paper, I

ur the final chapter

shall- offer a few observations on suffering

love as an expression of the tension in, th~ Christian (monastic) \

life betwe~n the celebration of the triumph of Christ and the pr,esence in the world of the Kingdom of God on the .. one hand, and the yearning for the conswnmation- of that Kingdorn 1

and the salvatïon of all men on the ether.

* Sorne further points

cencern~ng

defin1::::s should he

neted.

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The concept of'religious Orders appeared relatively It began

late in the history of Christian monas.tic,ism.

either with the founding of Cluny (A.D. 910) and its many "

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juridically 'Cluniac ' daughter-houses, or with the break with Cluniac Benedicti~ism and therestablishment of a

'New

Monastery' '(A.D. 1098) on the part of the cistercian~.

The

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distinction between 'active ' ,

'co~mPlativ~'

and the so- .

called 'mixed ' Orders arase only after the twelfth century with the appearance of specialized organizations of religious. ~

Consequently, l shall not use the term until we reach section four.

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A ,contemplative monastic community,may be loosely des)..

cribed as one wh1ch is separated from the general society t

of men and oriented towards the cultivation of grace and

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. sonship in Crrist.

It can be either eremitical,:cenobitic

,Qr a combinatfun of the two.

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Since aIl three of the fuonastic

families on which l shall concentrate may be descrÏbed as 'contemplatiye ' , I

sha1t simply refer to them as 'monastic'.

When the monks of the Roman period and of the Law Middle Ages

spo~e

of the active life and the contemplative

life, they were not referring ta

religio~s

Orders but

eit~e:r

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ta two different and obs~rvable modes of external living,

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or to two religious states of the interior life.

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The two

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concepts tended to overlap with each other since it was though:t -,

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that a particular (i.e. contemplative) mode of living facilitated ' growth in Christ. 3 (a) 1 shall be' using the t:.erm 'contemplative (monastic) life' "prirnarily with an emphasis upon this exterior signification.

1t might be useful, however, to briefly out-

liAe here the substance of the latter' definition sinee an 1

implicit allusion to it will often he made in the course of this study.

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.Christian spirituality taught that I~here were two principal stages in the interior life,-that is, in the process of the ;:;

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forming of Christ in the individual by,grace.

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The first and

ascetical stage was called 'the active life' because the

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phasis here was upon man' s efforts to bring his life into line with the activity of

~he

indwelling Holy

SPir~

This

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stage was characterized hy repentance, self-renunciation, a o eontinuing conversion of life in the imitâtion of

~rist

and

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obedience to the conunandments.

1ts goal was an ever-greater

self-ahandonment to the \'lill of God and to the spirit of "

praye'r and sacrifice. The second and mystical stage was

cal~ed

'the contemplative

life' because the emphasis now was upon God' s activity iÎ/, the

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(a) Renee the ~~rrn 'con~emplative' was l~ter used to refer to those reli~ders whieh were explieitly oriented towards the cultivation of grace. 1

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10 soul and -man 1 s dO,cility to it.

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The often routine, confused ,

and self-seeking activity of the soul had been largely

up- '

rooted and transformed into the spiritual, free, illumin'ated and God-centered

activi~y

of self-giving love.

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* Footnqtes. will be indicated by an alphabeticall letter and will be found at the bottorn of the page. 'Bibliographical, "

references, except,in the case of Scriptural quotations t

R. S. V. is used in aIl instances

the

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and of books repeatedly

cited in one chapter - The Life Of Anfhony,' The Rule of St. Benedict - will be indicated by a .roman numeral and will be found at' the end of the paper.

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PAR T

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ONE

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THE ORI9INS OF

MONASTICIS~

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SECTION ONE -

THE ASCETICS

Preface

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Since Johannes Weiss and. Albert Schweitzer first emphasized the .eschatological element in the/ Gospels, it has bec9me commonplace,to say that Jesus, Paul and the early Christians l.ilred in expectation bf the' inuninent '~nd' of the world jnd that this deeply influenced their thought and .

l~fe.

(a)

' ,The new age had begun with the resurrec~1on of

Jesus and the Pentecostal outpQ~ring of the Holy Spirit upon

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the Church at Jerusalem.

The Kingdom of God had been founded ::

and would soon be fully established with the triumphant retu:r;n

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Son of Man ,in glory. 1

When the 'end' did not 'come and as, over the years, the

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Christian Church continued to grow and finally to find an

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acc~pted

ptace in the world, ChristianitY began to asswne a,

different character ,ah,d to pose a different set of questions.

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What does it mean to live in the world but not of, it? ~

In

what sense are Christians "strangèrs and pilgrims on this eart1}" (Heb. Il: 13)? i

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W'hat is the place

o~

the

CJhur~h

in

th~s

(a) In this paper I shall be substituting ian eschatology in the process of realization' (Joachim Jeremias) for the 'thoroughgoing eschatology' of Weiss and Schweitzer.

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alleged in-between time (i.e. between the 'already established '

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but Inot yetI fully consurnmated ' Kingdom of God), and what is its

particular'cel~tionship

to the KingdoJ of God and to the

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world?

' Let us begin then by looking briefly at how the Christian community, in response to the unexpected delay of the parousia, began to split up into two groups. presented by the hierarchy.

The first group was re-

It was largely concerned with

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the establishment' and expansion of ,tlhe Church as a religious society.

The second was' represented by the ascetics.

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It was

oriented' more towards an ascetic and other-worldly lifestyle.

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A short review of. sorne of the . principal political andltheolo-

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gical developrnents which led the ascetics to abandon their the monastic li~e of t~e desert ~ill I~en follow.

This wilf serve as an introduction to the main

bOdy'Oflour study • •

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He cited the parable of the fares and the wheat (Matt. 13:24-30) and compared the Church to the ark of Noah in which were 1 things c'lean and unclean 1 •• 5

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Thus there arose in the Church by the second century an increasingly individualistic spirit and a grbwing belief in the vital connection between1asceticisrn and Christian holiness. The ascetics became highly esteerned by their fellow Christians, /

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and by the third century came,to occupy sorne of the-top echel;bs r

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of leadership and authority in their communities.

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rnonastic movement.

Although the ascetics continued to live in the rnidst of their communities, retaining their private rneans and wearing

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no

spec~al

garb, the y began to, acquire a d,istinctive lifestyle

and '·function. \

They tended . the sick and the needy, preached ~

, and exorcised demons, together

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set hours

interced~d

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for ministers and gathered

~or prayer~ese

periods of prayer'

and worship were usually at times Iike, the third, sixth and '.

ninth hours when ordinary working people eould not be expected to

jb~n

more

with them.

They were characterized by a freer and

·vidual approach to God than was the case with the

in€reasingly formaI pub+ic

wo~ship

of the rest' of the Church.

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A t~end' ha~ 1

developed, one that would eventually result in the emergence of~the

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As a result, the ascetics werè becorning accU'stomed to the

,-

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ide~

:Il

of worshipping apart from the worship\ of fbe congregation .,.,.

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as a whole~ 6

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Similar1y the martyrs had becorne 'witnesses in' these (j,.

1

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i "{ 1

ear1y centuries to that Kingdom which is in the world but ~ , ~

,

î

~

not of it (Jn

1

.

18:36), yet "which is the true- home of Christians. , .t)

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.

They too were highly esteemed by their communities and were •

thought to have received special graces from God. rnyst~c

The martyr-

Bishop Ignatius of Antioch, for instance, wrote of his

impending deat.h as an imitation of the Passion of Christ and as a blessed opportunity to be united with God.

(

his followers

~ot

crown for which he

He besought

to try to-prevent him from attaining this 50

ardent1y'longed:

Thi~ is the first stag~ of rny discipleship, an~ no power, visible o~ invisible, must grudge me my coming to Jesùs phrist •• ~ He who died for u~ is aIl that f. seek~ he who rose again for ,us is my whole desire. The _pangs of birth are upon me. Have patience with me my br~thers and do not shut me out from,life, do not wish me ta be stîlIborn • • • Suffer~me to attain ta.light, light pure and undefiled~ for only when l ~ come thither shall l be truly a man ••• . Here and now as l write in the fulness of life, l yearning for death with aIl the passion of a lover. ~arthly lo~~gs have been crucified~ in me there is left no spark of desi~e for munaane things, but only a murmur of living water that whispers within me, 'Come to the Father' •••

am

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, Ifam fainChfO:Otthe bh~e~d °hf'GOd'd'evef n th~dfleshd ) o Jesus r1S, w 0 1S t e see 0 Davl..: an for rny drink l 'crave that blood of his which is love imperishable. 7 The ,question which most interests us at this stage co~cerns

the reasons for

wh~ch

the

living in or

~scetics,

round their commuriities, began' to go apart and live in solitude, that is, to,live as monks. ' If the seeds of 1

• .,.

•

1

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9

\1,...

monasticisrn were to be foùnd in the communalism, ethical , ,r~gorism, other-worldliness dnd religious fervour of prim,

~

-

itive qhristi~nity and especially of the Christian co~unity at Jerusalem,"nonetheless certain

(

....

historical'devel~ments ,

'

were instrumental in bringing them into full flower. In order ,to understand the origins of Christian rnonast~~ism, it i~ imfortant to, cons~de,r the latent tepslons whiè~,~xtsted in the Church between t?~ ascetics and the hier~hy.

A good way to, approach this subject

,y noti~~

in

Whic~ the <)!ontanist

mi9'ht·.b~

crisis of the

s'econd century play~a part in the articulation o~ these _ \

'------,

tensions.

'--

"'-

.........

,

'-~

, Williston Walker ,o~tlinèd some~Ô'f-~J features of ~ '~

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The second century was convinced •• , not only that the Holy Spirit wa§ in peculia~ assoaiation with God the Father and 1 fChrist, but tha"t Christ , ,

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Mont,anism:

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promised~

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m~re abund~nt

had tiie coming in measure in the futur I~ this tho'll;ght of ' the special dispensation tli~y Spirit, 'co~ bined with a fresh outburst ~e ~Y prophetie enthusiasm, and a belief that the d o~the worldage ~~Close at hand~ that were repr nted:tri~~ \ Montanism~ '~,To a considerable extent Monta . m -------~~_, was aiso a rfaction against the secular tendenc' a1readyat work in the Church ••• In its ascetic demand~ ••• ce1ibacy, fasting, àb tinence from 1 meal ••• Montanism represen~e9 a~widespread ten~ dencyr and-an.asceticism:as,stric~ as anything Montanism taught was l~ter" to find a place in the , reat Church in rnonasticism. 8

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Montanist

ere aiso

prot~ting ~gai~st

century, that the grace

. of God was exclusively dispensed by titute,d officers.

the notion,

Church's duly cons1

Their pr0t:èst represented a

ttempt:to

1

• return ta- the Spirit-led characteJ:' of primitive' Christi with1 its i~tense 'esçhatologicai expectations"and other• wprldly

l~festy~~. ,

.Ais'

asc~ti~,',

0

chari~mati,c

other-world,ly and

empp,as is was to hé re-exerted in' strengtb" by the eàr'ly- Christian " ~

rnonks of the desertS a)

ThJ

anti-Montànis~ ,

...

establis~ent

Chrisrian

reaction on the Ffart of

1

had been

confidence in the imminence

'Of-,~t!lz:arousia

---

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•

character~zed

,

~

~

tll~

-~~ ... " -------...

Orthodox 9

by a 10ss of

and an opposition

(a) Sirnilarly, the rnonastic understanding·of metanoia w9uId ~ ~- - ~epresent a reaction against the secular tendencies of the~~w Christian people ,of God.

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the., har:shness of Montanist asceticisrn.

Equa:}.ly important

- \

eased ernphasis upon ,a sacerdotal as opposed to '~'-_-'--....Çhar isma tic

---

rev~~atïon

~

Tne_period of prophetie,

~

was se en by the majority of", the hierarchy as being

clOS~nSequentiy,O they

s;ught"to cqnsolidate their

• position by assigning to th~ episcopa~y the responsibil~ty

.

------------____

. for, the authoriz~tion flnd int~rpretation of -t;:he Scriptpres,"

;------------~'L -'- '

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the fJ.~ against her~sy and schislll 'and ~e adl.Jlinistration

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of the Church 1 s

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sac~tal

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and community life. ____.

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Thus was

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, --------' . established ;the practice on thepar:L~OPS'1 ------to~versee . , \

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and, to sorne extent, to control the activities of thé 'ascetics

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charismatics and their spiritual descendants, thê monks.

C~)

,

an~

The hierarchy ~

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the ascetics were ea~h ablEl ~c)- find

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in the ~cripturbs support fDr their respective concerns and /'

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-(-a-)--·Th--a~t-±·~some~0rm of 'control over the charisrnatics was, cessary j):.\ the Church was' to safeguard, that is, to fDç a tabi\.ize its bOdy of revealed truths ..can . se'en by 100 . '-..·'a..t~hell-:èxcesses to which the fo '\ were wont to succumb. .~~ Hans Lietzmann~ of the ' ascetic~) clairned, indee I . t ~r self-control gave thern insights which were in the naturel of divine revelations" and were superior to the authprity of th~ bishops ••• These ascetics made> preten'tions. to be persons spiritually endowed (pneumatics)' and they felt "thernselves superior to the clergy."
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On the one hand, Christians had been encouraged t to accept the state as a provisional necessity willed by God, orientations.

though not itself divine in nature.

They were only to oppose

it, theref~e, to the extent to which it commanded from~ristians an allegianc~ and obedience·properly owed to God alone. were to

pr~ach

They

the Good News, baptize the repentant, defend

the Faith.against the Evil One, serve the poor and the needy and celebrate the New Covenant which God offered Christ

humani~y

in

Jes~

,

On the other hand, Jesus had said that those who could, or who had been called ~

\0

it, might live an ascetic and radie-

ally self-denying existence for the God.

sak~

of the Kingdom of

Furthermore, the apostles had always taught that the

Christ-life signified a kind,of 'death' to

'th~

world', a

metanoia and a form of spirit'lé\l\.rebirth on a new and transc,en'&nf level. As long as the Church remained outlawed by and critical' of the state, the relations between these two groups were for the mOl3t part harmonious'.

..

This favourable condition

was seriously disrupted, however, when

..

Chri~tianity

the official religion of the Roman empire.

became

Indeed, the

ascetics soon concluded that fidelity to the cross of Christ demanded of them a radical break with society and the adoption 0'

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. ..,. 1

of (what was shortly to be called) the ~onastic life of the

"

desert. It may be useful for us to ekamine this development on co~text,

both a politiyal,and theological level in the

first,

of martyrdom and, second, of the traditional calI of the desert. Martyrdom had always highlighted for Christians the essential antagonism between the wOfd oi of Christian discipleship on

t~e

~od

and the

dem~nds

one hand, and the ideology

and demonic demands of a totalitarian and

self-s~rving

and/or religious establi:hment on the other.

political

As Paul h1ad

said, and as had noJ been the common experience for centuries,

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Il

aIl who desire 'to l'ive a godly life in Christ Jesus will be

persecuted" (II Tiro. 3:12). Rad not Jesus always resisted the allurements of wQrldly J \:.1:'{

power with which the

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and through them the Evil One

,

f,

J;.",

z~alot~

~'"

had tempted him?

Had not the redernption of the world come

froml t~e cross of Christ where precisely the powerful had

~-

slaughtered the. Lamb?

t·

selves with the state

Could Christians ever identify 50

the~

long as the evil Prince of this world

still actively used_Jolitical-and even religious power againat

" the faithful?

The blood of the martyrs, as far as thè ascetics

were concerned, cried out against any alliance or, still less,

,

~ I-~

-.,- --

~---

1 -.{I

- 22 -

identification of Babylon with Jerusalem.

No expectations

had been raised that the Church might oné day corne to contr'ol and represent the state.

On the contrary, the Scriptures

spoke of widespread and systematic persecution as a sign that the end was near.

They told of the flight of the beleaguered

faithful into the wilderness, once the Evil One had launched 1

his final desperate assault again'st thern and had infiltrated and subverted both the pilitical ~nd religious e,stablishrnen'ts. They saw salvation not in political

~nd

cultural hegernony but (

in the Kingdorn of faith and in patient endurance until the

end (

(Mk. 13: 9-37; Rev. 12: 1-17, 1: 9).

/

When the persecutions ended, therefore, and "the Church

settled in the world leaving the world-state in possession \

of aIl but its gods" as Adolf Harnack so succinctly

p~t

it,9

o

the ascetics made their fateful choice. ' It was impossible, -they concluded, both to practise the particular lifestyle

~hich

they believed Christ,demalded of them

perSO~fliy,

and

to continue to live in a Christian community that had now simply blended into the hitherto alien and hostile general society of men. at least practise

If they could not be martyred they could the~kind

of self-abnegation and single-

minded self-consecration to God that was expected DI those who had given up aIl things to follow Christ.

They could \

.

•

...

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• (

thereby "put to death aIl that was ear1:hly in them" (001. 3:5) and so obtain the pearl of great price. ,

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The theological groundwork for this interior and syffibolic conception of martyrdom had already been implicitly laid by the Gospels.

By Jhe beginning of the third century, Clement

and Origen of Alexandria were explicitly describing asceticism as a form of martyrdom.(a) Clement wrote: If martyrdom consists in confessing God, (b) every person who conducts himself with purity in the knowledge of God, who obeys the commandments, is a martyr in his life 'and in his words .••• not the ordinary martyrdom but the gnostic (c) martyrdom. lO

, \

~

Clem~nt'and

Origen emphasized the interior and sapiential ...

aspects of the Christian Life. · 1: Ch r1st

an d

~as

""

to b e

sp~r~tua

l

~

~oun d"~n

a

.1.

1"Il um~nat~on.

TheY,taught that growth in

" progress~ve

. pur~ " f ~cat~on " " ascet~c

\ "-.,

(a) Origen also spoke of martyrdom as a kind of second baptism - a notion which would later be transposed to monasticism. (b) "Martyr" in Greek

~simBly

means "witness".

,

'. "

(c) One should not confuse Clementine qnosis with the nonChristian Gnostic ~o~ement. One can, however, discern a Gnostic influence 'in the.ascetic Zeitqeist of the period and in its spirit of growing individualisme " 1

\

,

--- , r 1 .,

- ...

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24 ,>

Williston Walker offers an outline of this notion: Faith, that is, simple traditional Christianity, -is eno~gh f0r salvation~ but wth~ ·man who adds to his fafth, 'knowledge,' has a higher possession. He is the true Christian Gnostic. To him that has shall be given: to faith, knowle~ge: to knowledge, love; to love, the iriheritance. The highest good to which knowledge leads - a good even greater< , than the salvation which it necessarily involves -, is the knowledge of GOd. 11

\

.,

This interpretation of Christianity reinforced the distinction between the average Christian and the ascetic.

It

would later, after Constantine l, serve as a theological support ,for [monastic solitude. ~(

\

The cal'l of the desert had long been a traditional Biblical,theme.

There can be seen throughout the Bible a

continuing dialectic between city

life~on

the lifT of the. des1ert on the other.

the one hand and

Il

This reflects, to sorne

1

ext~nt ~erhaps,- the' Hebraic view that the chronic danger of

city life was that it weakenéd man's sense of dependence on and intimacy

wi~

God'and, .correlatively, his obedience to

Godls commandments.

the leadership of Moses was seen 'as the honeyrnoon of her '

.

'relationship , wlth God.

The prophets- rernemberÇld wi th long mg

those years when God had nourished His people with manna from heav~n,

\

;Israells sojourn in the desert under

and they tended to desiré them anew.whenever the

.

j

f ., - l

- ....

- 25

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T 1

community "strayed from the way of life ~y' èeasing to obey the conunandments (Jer. 9:2: Hos. 2:14-20)'. ,1

It is in the desert that man discovers, according to Isaiah, the unsurpassed fruitfulness and joy of a life lived with God;

It i's, he suggegted, the plàce of revelation and

insp~ration'par

excellence (35:1-10). (

The monks of the.fourth and fifth centuries knew from the New Testame~~that 'the dese~t' had been a favourite place of prayer for Jesus (Mk. 1:35).

Evagrius of Pontus, Origen's

'"'

monastic interpreter, likened the flight into the desert to the pilgrimage of the soul, to

(

bondage,

th~ough

il~

journey from the land of

trial and suffering, aridity and emptiness,

to the promised land of blessedness. This twin view of the desert as both an atena o~ spiritual c

combat and a place where hidden springs of living water were to be found was prevalent throughout the early centuries and played a large part in

al~

sUbsequent Christian monastic

spirituality.12

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PAR T

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AN EXPLORATION OF BARLY EGYPTIAN,

':"

. PRIMITIVE BENEDICTINE AND EARLY

1;* ,,

CISTERCIAN MONASTICISM

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--- - - - .-

Il SECTION TWO - EARLY EGYPTIAN MONASTICISM 1

-

l

-

Anthony (ca. A.D. 250-356) was the father and model of the solitary life of

~rayer

in the

de~ert.

His story, as told

f

by Bishop Athanasius, moved the hearts and minds of Christians throughout the empire and brought many of them to Egypt in search of inspiration and guidance. Anthony was one of those who heard the Gospel calI to If

leave aIl, take up nis cross and follow Jesus, a command which

(

he,interpreted ta mean that he personally should

~ell'his

property and go and live a life apart in prayer and meditation 1

on the word of God.

At first he

liv~d

a pa.rtially solitary

life just outside a town, earning his bread by the work of

.

his. hands and praying constantly.

He used to travel from

place to place in order to learn what he could from other and more mature Christians. 'rl\us filled, ~e returned ~o his own place of disciplin~ and henceforth would strive to unite the qualities of each, and was eager to~how in ~irnself the virtues of ,aIl ••• And (aIl the people) called him God-beloved ••• and ,welcomed him. (a)

/

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<1>

The Life Of Anthonv: Nicene And post-Nicene Fathers Vol. IV: pp. 194-~21 (Michigan: Eerdrnans, 1975), chap. 4. (hencefbrth V.A, c.l, 2, 3 etc.)

, _ _ _ _ _- - b - - - - -- .

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After he had acqu1red sufficient learn'ing l'and 1:J.~d successfully resisted through grace the devil's temptations the remembrance of his wealth, care for his sister, claims of kindred, love of money, love of glory, the vàrious pleasures of the table and other relaxations of life, and at last the difficulty of virtue and the labor of it (a)

f,

f.

- Anthony withdrew into the more distant and interior de sert in order that'he migh~ mor~ eagerly serve Gad in solitude. Louis Bouyer suggests that at that mOment the necessity of ." carrying on his asceticism as a struggl~ against the devil

\

r"-

"

fUl1Y dawned in his

(

.

co~{ciousness.(b)

Anthony,then spent twenty years in complete seclusion.

,; l,

He

,~ ~

1

-

per~ected

his discipline, resisted the temptations and

illusions of the Evil One, though not without suffering great

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(a) Ibid. c.S. (b) "K~rl.Heussi explains tha'ë in primitive, monasticism in general, the retreat .to the desert in no way expressed any simple desire for tranquillity, tor leisure for extEf.nded contemplation in~t e sense Ofl Greek philosophy.• If the monk buried h~sel in the desert, it was with the intention 9f fight' against the devil and for. the ... reason that solitude ,seemed to be his usua1 dwellingplace. It was in order to imitate Jesus (when, after his baptism, he was' driven into the desert by the divine Spirit, there to meet the devil and undergo his temptat-ions) .:~, that the monk went. According to anéient monasticism, the monk only left the novitiate' when he recognized the terrible reality of evil, the hosts of spiritual wickedness in the heavenly places (Eph. 6: 2) against which he must fight." Louis Bouyer, The S iritualit Of The New Testament And The rathers (London: Descl~e, 1963), p. 312. CF. V.A. c .13 where the demons say td Anthony, "Go from what is, ours, what dost thou even in the desert?"

"l

- 29 -

f.

l ' "psycho-physical

,

~unishment,

and finally attained a clear and

profound realization of sonship in Christ.

~e

was:

i~tiated into the mysteries and filled with the Spirit of God ••• yet altogether as one guided by reason and abiding in a natural state. (a) .It was only after this "

period of eremitical formàtion

l~ng

,

that Anthony began to make himself available,to others.

Con--

sequently, his advice to the young monks whom he agreed,to 1

guide in the spiritual life was that

!geY

sbould start by

~

learning the discipline of the cell. An apothegm attributed to Anthony

.~e,ds·:

( Just as fish die if they remain on dry land s;i0nks +emaining away from their cells or dwe ling with men of~the wor1d, lose their' dete m~natiori to persevere ïb s?litàry prayer. TheJefore, just as fish should go baok to the sea, so.must we remain in our cells, lest remaining outside we forget to watch over ourselves interior1y.l~ (D) ! . " 1

(.)' V,A. c.14. BiShop Athanasius' account of the life of Anthony should be read in the light of the profound con-qernporary strugg1es within the great Church. Thus,lle may Jell have emphasized these latter points in o~osit~on tb Arian and pagan teaching. ~ertainly they contrast sharp1y with irrationa1 or dualistic modes of thought, and reaffirrn the Bib1ical faith in the goodness of creation, the body and human nature. / .

(\

(b) Cf. Helen, Waddel1 (transl:.) The Desert Fathers: "The l'monk must rema~n in his cell ••• must never leave his ce11 ••• It will teach him aIl things ••• It is 1ike the furnace in Baby1,on where the tbre'e young men found the ~Son of God and like the pillar of cloud from which God spoke ta Mosei"~ (London: Constable~ 1936), pp. 91, 155-6, l2~. r

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Anthony counselled

'ren~nciants'

(i.e. those who had -~

renounced the world for the monastic life of the l

deser~

pérsevere in prayer, d'iscipline, numility and; çbove aIl, piet~~

,

~-,

"towards Christ. \

Re explained to them that the demons were

pow~rless against-faith, and that monks must tberefore neVer

, "

J

âllO~ themselves tŒbe intimidated into abandoning 1

'the way'.

woul~~nd

If they remained steadfast, he taught, they

God,

,

be instructed in the kno~ledge of divine things and taste the cherished peace and joy of the Roly/Spirit. ~ought

The monks

.

to spend their days in a spirit of prayer

'

and self~renunciation, praising G~d and awaiting the return of

(

the herd.

Both their work - generally an uncomplic,atéd and \

~

t

mechanical craft such as basket weaving, mat weaving, rope

making or ca.rpentry - and their praye)s and lit?rg.~cal services were

ext~emàly

simple and unadorned.

Their settlements were

usually arr,nged'in such a way that'the

ipdi~idual"cells

were

separated that th~ monks could neither see nor hear , one ~nother, and each was able to live a life of undisturbed so

w~dely

\1

l'

meditation.

Mutual' intercourse between the monks was only

allowed'either at the regular

worshi~

services on Saturdays a

and Sundays or du~ing the occasional agapës when the monks would gather for table fellowship.

...

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Athanasius, no doubt

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id~ntifyin9 the ",/rn6nks 'a,$i/witnessds ""f. l ~

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ta the earthly paradise, prophesied in the ~,5P'{res, e ~laimed:

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So their cells were in the mount,a.{nS: like t \ nac1eSt.. filleÇi with holy band~/bf men who s \ psalms, loved reading, fasted', prayed, rej l in e hope of things to c9me, laboure~· almsgiving d preserved love and ha~ony,w· h one another. A 'truly it was possible, 1 it were, to behold a lan et by itself, fil d with piety and justice. For th there was ith~r the evïldoer, nor the injured, no he r proaches of the tax coll'kctor,' but instead a·m titude of, ascetics, and the one purpose of themall at vir\tue. (a).

/

~

.~

Pachomius (A.D. '290-34'6), the next most ,c~lebrated Copt --.._~_.. __________ af~er

(

Anthony and a former soldier in the

~man

army, organized

\

his commU1i.ity of monks along a more conununal pattern. (b) founded a monastery at Tabennisi

wit~

He

a common ru le and under

( a) V. A. 1c. 44 •

~

(

(b) OWen \,Chadwick remarks that Pachomius was only one among many monastic superiors of,houses with ,a common life and that the spread of such communitiês in Egypt and Syria was too swift to follow only: from the exarnple of Pachomius. Cenobitic monasteries were, he suggests, a growth, in new circumstances, from already existing groups of virgins and ascetics. The pachomian houses, he concludes, had the distinction of being daughter houses supervised by the head superior fran his residence at Pabau. Cassian noted the unusual strictness of the rule and .the obedience of the monks. John Cassian (Second Ed.) (London: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p. \55.

/

,'~,-

.

~~

'

~~,'

~ ~

~~

~~~

32 -

"

'~-,-,_~_,_,

the institutional autharity of" an abbot.

Jl:ere bte

m~nks

'"'Were knit into a single body, with similar dress and ~'-

hours

~

,~

:~,

règ'l:!-l~r ~

\

of~'Work

'- "'-,

and

Such certobitic pl,tactices èontrasted

wo~ship.

Il ~

~

sharply with the~rndividualistic and les~ orgân4ed eremitical ,

-~'

"'-

~

tradition, with its charismatic understanding< of ~--~

.

"""--~,

'-, monastic~ ~

~

authority and observance.

fo~: w~s d~signed

cenobiti p ~im

at the highest virtue and

sJlenc~, ,obedience, (

to prom~te courage~ zeal and

severance in 'the arena of piety 1, where the'

a,

~Ot:lkS, ~i.lld .

growth. in the Spirit..

So:itude,

asceticism, self-renunciation, méditation 1

on the word of God and prayer were aIl oriented towards this end •. This was what monasticism was aIl about.

.\ 1

It would be a mistake, however', despite Athanasius 1

idea.1istic rcount. ta suppose

~ae ~e -la~ of ~he ave~age

monk was characterized by const~ntl spirituaL consplations and~ /

,

\

-

a progressive ascent to perfection.

1

On the contraJ:Y, many

'-",monks were prone to pri<\e, self-satisfaction, anger or jealousy

,

in ite-ir' relations with each other, or

e~se

were

assail~d

bYM'

accidie (i.e. spiritual torpor and boredom), forgetfulness,

(3

distr~qtions

much to

(

th?

and dissiPafion.

.

Indeed, it ~as perhaps due as

inabili ty of mi:my monks to meet the lofty ~tandards

set by the charismatic giants of desert monasticism as it was

/ o

/

1\

\,

33 -

f

to the

depa~ture

of the

-

1

"

f.rom the scene that subsequent

la~ter

~

generations of eastern monks carne to exaggerate the importance ~

of asceticism and , 0.

~

NeverthÈü~ss,

1

self-mort~fication. ' 1.'

it is "ait: to -say that the o

grea~

simplicity,

"

wisdom and love of the desert fathers

.

repre~ented

a golden age

in rndnastic history,~ ~ne that would' serve as a source of G

strength, hope and

. v.j.tality

~

,

:l;o'r the futuré.·

.,

"

1

J

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:r

,

:

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(

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-,

"

..

"

,

- r

-

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II

"

Antho~y,

Pachomius, ~acar~us and the other early pioneers

of the Egyptian de~~rt were mostl~ simple~ unedücated copts. (a) Theirs was a popular, national, lay and evangelical movement. It was unsophi.sticated and lacked the developed theological ('

self-understanding of the later

'erudite monasticism' of

Evagrius of ~ontus, John Cassian and Basil of Caesarea.

Their

strong Coptic traditions of a future life served as a foundation,

<.

and their rugged fellahin lives prepared them weIl for the 'monastic life of the desert.

.

.

If sorne were simply fleeing from the pol1ce, army recruiters,

(

1

SiJave owners,

tax-collectors or even their own bishops, none-

theless, a large number were drawn by a quasi-literaI

in~er­

pretation of the Gospel (b) to léave aIl and follow Christ •. They shared the intense ,'eschatological expectations' of the early Christians afid were wont to perceive signs of Christ's 6.

imminent teturn in' the historical and natural events taking ,

place around them. /

.'

The issues with

whi~h

they dealt and the

values to which they were cCimmitted were for the most part

'- (a) Cassian commented thqt the more sophisticated Greeks regarded the copts aS rustic. There existed ~etween the

(

two groups a natural tension, as ·between native and foreigner, simplicity and learning. Cf. O. Chadwick, John Cas~iani pp. 24~6. (b} This can be seen in their inclination towards anthropG>morphism. o

,

J-~T~----

35' -

uncomplicated and straight-forward. masters

(Matt. 6: 24) •

No man could serve two

If they went into the desert, it was

because they believed with

A~thony

thai this was a frui tful

way of finding and serving Christ and of overcoming the àemons in open battle, so to speak. The early Egyptian monks, f-ollowing the lead of Anthony, Pachomius, Macarius and the other heroes of orthodox monasticism and despite the contemporary spirit of individualism, saw

the~

selves as Chr istians having an integral place within the Chur ch universal. (a)

Theirs was simply one form of the Christian lift,

one of the many varieties of service to which the faithful

( ,

might be called.

Always,

t'ô their mind., the honour and the

9 lory was the Lord 1 s, and the good which was done was for the

,

sake of the Kingdom of God and the Church. ,

The mutual unger-

;,

standing and respect between Athanasius, Anthony and Pachomius

, \

served in this regard to de fuse the individualistic and potential

1•

~

'1

separatist and anti-clerical tendencies within this evangelical

1

~

and lay movement.

J

Their solidarity was the foundation upon

~

't

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!

t

1\

f

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(a) Hans Lietzmann held that Coptic monasticism later degenerated into a pseudo-Christian movement which perceived Christianity not as ,the way of grace but rather as an ethiç to be followed in one 1 S EO li tary strugg le against the demons. Furtherrnore, that, gi.ven this ethic, the monks saw themselves not simp1y as the élite of the Church but, ev en more, as almost the\ only true practi.: tioners of an exclusively ascetic and other-worldly Christianity. opoeit. pp. 149-55.

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(

which the unit y of the monlastic movement with the Church of the bishops was estab1ished. Anthony, for instance, praised aIl of the various duties which the Church. expected o,f its members. (a)

He exhorj:.ed

everyone ta have faith in the Lord and to love Him and to pre fer , the Love of Christ before aIL

t~at

was in the world.

The world,

\~

1

he taught, was of little worth compared wi th the joys of eternal lif~.

He counselled even the Etnperor not to think too much

r

of the present but to remember the Judgement to come and the fact that Christ alone was king. he told the faithful,

Remember approach;ing death,

and the good things to come and the me.r.cy ,

of Gad. (b)

17-

The monks saw themselves as being above history, as i t

(a) IPalladius recorded that the solitary life of asceticism and the service-oriented life were séen as being equally perfect forros of 'Christian discipleship and owitness. Lausiac History, . transI. Robert Meyer (Westminster: Newman Press, 1965), pp. 49-51, 105. Similar1y,. master Paphnutius reported1y said: "We must not despise anyone in the world, whether they are farmers, merchants or artists because there is no condition in this life in which 'Souls faithfu1 to God do not please Him. This ,should make us see that it is not so much the ~rofession that each oneoembraces or what seems the most perfect in his manner of 1ife which is agreeabte in God 1 s eyes, but rather sincerity and the disposit~on of fhe spirit joined to good wprks~1I ~addell, p. 73. (b) V.A.

Cl S

69, 81, 14.

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, 1-

- 37 -

1

were,

and removed from the temporal world of ignorance and

sin.

They had regained paradise (a) and werè soon to witne~s ~

the triumphant return of Christ in glory. They believed,with / Anthony that the crisis of Ar1anism heralded the aq,vent of the anti-Christ and the end of the age. (b) logical expectations

.

1

coloured their per ception of the presence

in the world of the Kingdom of God.
,

These intense'eschato-

ship, worship and prayer was

They established the discipline~

organi~ed

work, fellow-

and conducted.

The distinctiveness of coptic monasticisrn can be seen Jy briefly contrasting it with the explicitly service-oriented

f

monasticism of Basil of Caesarea and the thoroughly Christian Platonist (Alexandrian) monasticisrn of John Cassian.

o )

Basil openly preferred the common to the solitary 1ife. 1

One of his Longer Ru1es reads:\

...

(a) Thus Jerome after having 'lived among tlaem for a number of years exc1aimed, "Q desert, bright with the f10wers of Christ:' 0 solitude, whence come the stones with which, ~n the Apocalypse, the city of the great king is bui1t! ~wi1derness, gladdèned with God's' s~ecia1 presence! What keeps you in the wor Id my brothèr, you -who are above the world? ••• How long sha11 the smokey cities immure you? Does the bound1ess solitude of the desert te~rify you? In the Spirit you may walk' a1ways in paradise." "The Principal Works Of St. Jerome Il, in Nicene And PostNicene Fathers Of The Christian Church (Second SeriesJ, vol~ VI, Letter XIV (Michigan: Eerdmans, 1975), p. 17. (b) V.A. c. 69.

\-...,

...

-

.. - 38 -

If you always live alone, whose feet will you wash? The solitary life has one aim, to serve the needs of the individual. But this plainly conflicts with the law of love. 14 Insofar as Basil's ideas were derived, they came not from

•

E!.,~ypt but from Bishop Eustrathius of Sebaste, who organized

groups of celibate's and ascetics in Asia Minor. cornmunities, following their

e~ample,

Basil' s

administered relief to ...

the poor, conducted a hospital, visited the sick and kept schools.

They were, in other words, explicitly oriented towards

service '. to the Church. l5 Furt.h~rmore,

(Basil) sought to check ••• the indifference of the monks not only to the calls of secular s.Qciety and civilization but also to the normal worshipping life of the Church ••• by instituting rnonastic cornrnunities with a Rule under which the authority of the local bishop was safeguarded. 16

i

'"

,

)

l' 1

as Henry Chadwick observes:

1 \

r .1 1

Basll, unlike the copts, does not seern to have ernphasized the return of Christ.

The monastic life for hirn was valid, that

is, faithful to the Gospel of Christ only'to the extent~to which it was understood and practised in the larger context of Christian service.

i

Alexandrian monasticism reflected the doctrines of a

r·(, 1

j

,

11·----, '

particular school of spirituality, those of the philosophical

l'

- 39

(

tradition of Clement and Origen of Alexandria and of Origen' s monastic interpreter, Evagrius of Pontus.

It was oriented

towards the interior journey of the soul and the cultivation of the virtues, especially apatheia (the suppression of selfwi11 and eg01\-(istical desires), ataraxia (freedom from ag:i.tation~ j,

,

,

the peace df the soul) and gnosis (the direct knowledge of

Alexandrian monasticism also de-emphasized the parousia yet,

un~ike

Basilian monasticism, did not orient the monastic

life towards service to society.

Rather, it practised a policy

of enclosure in order that , the monks rnight concentrate aIl of

i- ( ,t ,<

their energies on Anterior growth and development.

Its justi-

fication for solitude, therefore, was that it facilitated the pursuit of this.spiritual goal. Anthony also preached love of neighbour and counselled 'y

his monks upon growth in the Spirit, that is, in the experience of that Kingdorn which is 'within you,.(a)

His intense 'escha-

{ '1

tological expectations', however, ,led h;i:m in a direction i:differen:t ; • 1

•

from

l,

Il

1

th~of

"either Basilian or

\

Alexa~drian J-

monasticiim. 1

In

~,

other words,' his' monks were to be re~dy for the inuninent return

!1

i?l

1

, i

, i

of the Lord.

, l

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Il

They were, to be sure, 'to oppose heresy,. to serve

(a) V.A. c.20.

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Î

)

1

1

- 40 -

f

those who came ta them. and to cultivate the virtues, but aIl of these practices were understaod in the cantext of their d'istinctive 'eschatalogical perspective'.

Thus Coptic monas-

ticism resembled Alexandrian monastitism in its preference for 1

solitude over service yet differed from it - and here a similarity ta Montanism becomes apparent - in its emphasis upon waiting in

.

the desert for the imminent end of the age. As far as the position 0f the hierarchy vis-à-vis the monks was concerned, Adolf Harnack argued that the Church had made a virtue out of necessity in recognizing the already establishedlFonastic movement as an ideal form of the Christian

(

life.

Furthermore,

h~

continued, it could not help doing so

sinee the more deeply it beeame involved in the world, in its 1

pOlitics and culture, the more loudly and

•

~rnpreSSiVelY.l

had it

preaFhed what monasticism now practised. 18 There is something ta be said for this argument. Chur eh did perhaps feel

~omewhat

The

unbomfortable at first in

its new pos:ltion as pOlitical sovereign of the world.

It

had had little choice in accedîng to this new status.

The

alternative might well have-been to become

litt~e

more than

an~ther of the many short-lived,' and only relatively influential, 1

( :

.

'Ù

religious sectlS which fl:ur:t.ihed at ~he time. however, the Church felt obliged, in <;>rder ta remain faithful ta its roots f

~o

have

som~

its members witness,

b~

a total

(

,

\

\

(

\

- 41 -

consecration of th€1r lives, to the primordial character and

., Thus was cemented in the Churcn a

orientation of the faith.

-

. diversity not of charisrns and mi~istries - these had been there from the beginning - but of forros of the Christian life. This was a new and unforeseen and, indeed, given the intense ~

'eschatologic~l expectations 1 of prilnitive Christianity, un-

f~reseeabie development. (a) Harnack's argument, however, does not teLl the whole story. One should also take into consideràtion the' fact that Athanasius \

and, after him, many of the hierarchy, no doubt inf luenced by ,

the ascetic Zeitgeist of the perio~, saw in monasticisrn a

(

fruitful way of life. glory to

It was, to their mind, one which gave

G01 by witnessing

in a vital and p~ofoundly spiritual

1

1

,.

J

(a) Catholic scholars have too often in the past accepted uncritically the belief of the early monks that their way of lif~ was a simple restoration of the life and practices of the apostolic cornmunity at, Jerusalem. Although the division in the early church at Jerusalem between the innercircle of apostles on the one hand who engag~d in prater and in the ministry bf the ward and the l 'remainder on the other who 1 served tables 1 (Cf. Acts E?: 2-4) seems to have resembled mpnastic separation from the world, the-·semblance is only superficial. Thejapostles did not completely separate themselves from the general society of men as did the monks. Nor wasthere \any thought, either in the early dayS or, indeed, at any time during the pre-Constantinian Iperiod (at least as far as orthodox Cbristians were concerned) of having a part of the Church practise a complete ly different form of life. The ascetics, after all, had still lived in or ~aund, and participated in the life of their communities. Similarly, the example of the Qwnran éOmIl'lunity and, later, the Montanists, had Deen rejected. '

..

-

(:

)

42 1

way to the presence of the Kingdom of pod in the world. Athanasius, in a letter to Amun, the founder of the monastery at Nitria, could there{ore say:

(Those who) embrace the holy and unearthly way ••• angelic and unsutpassed ••• namely virginity (i.e. the monastac life) even though it be rugged and hard to ~ccomplish ••• (will earn) the more wonderful gifts: for it grows the perfect fruit. 19 \...

Moreover, Anthony and his followers had consistently /

1

obeyed and honoured the bishops (a) -

an important difference

between Coptic monasticism and Montanfsm doxy against Arianism.

and defended prtho-

These considerations led the bishops

\

to acclaim the prophetie and spiritual authenticity of the monastic life and its value to ~ Churc~.

Thus rnonasticism

found itself, wit:.hin the very lifetime of its' founders, accepted, and honoured within the great Church.

It was a rernarkable

achievement, one that can only be properly appreciated - to qu~lify

1· ,

.

Harnack's contention - by recognizing that the monastic

/

,

/sPirit:had been tested, and nound to be genuine.

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If

SECTION THREE - 1RIMITIVE BENEDICTINISM -

l

-

~

The tr~sforrnation which monasticisrn underwent as it \

rnoved from East to West is reflected in the life and teaching of Benedict of Nursia (ca. A.D. 480-547). Egyptian rnonasticis1 was largely individualistic and, despite Pachomius's efforts, it continued to be dominated by the Antonine eremitical ideal. characterized

~y

Moreover, it had corne to be

l

'

the fifth century by a rather severe practice

of self-mortification, with an emphasis upon'the (

imp~rtance

of self-conquest •. Benedict followed this tradition when he began

hi~

rnonastic life as a hermit living alone in a cave near Subiaco, and practising

a

strict

fasting and prayer.

ascetici~

of bodily

rnort~fication,

As his farne grew, however, and people

began to come to hirn in increasing numbers, he finally agreed "

to becorne an abbot or spiritual father and eventually founded several monasteries throughout the region.

His initial pJlicy ,

was to designate a spiritually mature rnonk as abbot,(a) and to

( 1

,

(a) The Benedictine abbot was the\heir of the grea~ charismatic , ,fathers of the desert. Bened1ct may also have had in mind the role of the 'Roman paterfamilias ••• Subsequent generations of rnonks would elect their own abbots.

!

- 44

(.

require each

comrnuni~y

to live the Christian life under obe-

I

dience to its spiritual fœther and to a Rule which Benedict hiinself had written ...(a) One of the principal changes which Benedict introduced in the monas,tic li;fe was a

p~omis~

of stability. (b)

This meant

that each monk was to remain in the monastery of his profession

a~d

live a connnunal life with his brethren until

dea~.

This

prevented monks from wandering from place to place in a vain '--

search for a supposedly ideal or perfect monastery.

It also

,

allowed the discipline of the cornrnon life to bear fruit over

lif~ under the irnperfect

time by compèlling rnonks to li/e their

(

yet realistic conditi~hs which prêvailed

in

each monastery.

The practice of stability also created a family spirit

l rnfnas~ic

in which aIl the brethren travelled the

way together,

(a) The Rule Of" st. Benedict (henceforth, Il RSB" ) was often used by the various rnonasteries throughout Western Christendom together with other Rules. It did not win wide acceptance at first. Indeed, it was only fo'llowing Benedict of Aniane that a strict uniformity of observance of RSB was enforced in A.D. 817 throughout Ch,arlemagne' s empirr. When l refer to a "Benedictine" monaste;ry, therefore, l am indicating one in which the observance of RSB predominated. (b) Acceptance of stability and the other promises poverty, conversion of life and obedience - did not entail a canonical and legally binding contract - a 'vow' 'in the juridical sense - until monasticisrn itsèlf, under Benedict of Aniane, was so organized •

.

\

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-1

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45 ,

sharing with each other the joys and ,vicissitudes of thei;ro r

communal life.

The absence of rank or particularity of

observance further cemented this family bond in that aIl social clksses and aIl ages of men in the one monastery received the same treatment from their abbot, followed' thê' d~splayed

same Rule and

fJ!aternal': respect.

to one another s imilar love and

Indeed, it is important to note in this

/

"

regard that Benedict (and later, Bernard and the early Cis,

tercians) certainly did not want the monks to renounce affection for each other but rather to cultivate

~is

family spirit and

koinonia.

(

Benedict was 'a collectivist in both the material and spiritual \sense, for he legislt;tted for 'aIl men and not, simply 1

for a sophisticated few.

He required his monks to live a

fully cepobitic life working together f'n the fields and shOps, /

studying together in tl?-e library, sharing a conunon dormitory and refectory and, of course, celebrating the liturgy together. Gone we.re tne individualistic rivalries in ascetiçisrn of a now ,

,

largely decadent Antonine tradition and its Western colonies. \

-

Gone too was the notion that the monastic life must lead beyond t-he cenobium to the herrnitage. (a)

Rather, the Benedictine

>

(a) Benedict did allow for the possibility that certain monks

might want to leave the cenobi\lIIl for a mote soli tary 'life but it was thoug~t tha'l;- these woulq be few. Certainly it » was no longer exp,ected of a+l. \ ..

,

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'

4,6

monk was to locate his search for God in a life of soli JUdein-cornmunity, solitude being preserved by enc;losure and the' enforced a1mlo·~Pher.e ~f i~lencè, ~d comrn~ity by shared living and cornrnon tasks, especially the Opus Dei. -Benedictine asceticism focussed on self-surrender in *obedience to the abbot, to the Rule and to ..

th~ommon

will

of the' conununity as it occupied itself with dod in aIl its activities throughout the day.

It encouraged the monks to

~

1

renounce an individualistic self-will in humility

(~)

and love

..

and in imitation of Christ Jesus who had said that he sought not ta do his own will but rather t:;Pe will of Him Who had sent 1

, 1 1

(

i

him ( Jn. 6: 38) •

...

This was designed to weaken the attachments ,

\ to a self-centered life and to place the convert under the

t

increasingly direct guidance of the HOly,Spirit.

! '

David Knowles writes

1 1

.\

'"

(The spirit of R§~ is one of) the forming of nature to receive grace, y way df a gentle, steady growth based on comP lete/self-sacrifice. 20 ,

J

{a}

1 1

1 (

o

was central ta RSB. It represented the interior dimen~ion of Basilian obedience and had for-Benedict a more spiritual" and conununal character than . it had had for the early Egyptian moriks who often tended to combat pride by way of an increasingly 'savere practice o~ auster;ty and bodily self-mortification. The Benedictine community represented in this sense a family of fraternal'love in which aIl of the members shared their burdens with each 'other and serve~ as~ channels of divine love arid inercy for each other. Humi~ity

----c;-....

-~-______,

- -

-

47 -

(

st. B~nedict wrote his Rule for' aIl who wished ta be monks. Ta wish to be a monk was,' in his own , words, IIto wish ta renounce one' s own will. Il He is legisl~ting, therefore/ for aIl who wish to' devote themselves to God in a particular form oflife. His monastery is a' Il school of the Lçrd' s service. Everywhère he is positive and constructive. Nowhere does he suggest that he is writing ,for those who have used the world ill and now repent, or for those who have had a (wicked) past. ~ He, does not imply that the'monastic life is a reparation. Neith~r does he suggest that he lS writing for those called in sorne special way to serve God by penance, expiatory sufferings or intercessqry prayer. iris invitation is to aIl, \ and it:. is the invitation of the Gospel to the irldividual soul. 2l

.

Il

o

Benedict called his Rule "a minimum Rule for ·beginners Il (a) and wrote:

(

Therefore must we establish a school of the Lord's service; in founding which we hoP7 -:t0 ordain nothing that' is harsh or buraensome. But if, for good reason, for the amendment of evi~ habit or the ' presé'rvation of c::hatity, there b~ sorne strictnes's of discipline, do not be at once dismayed and run away,cfrom the way of salvation, of which the ~ entrance must needs be narrow. But, as'we prôgress in our monastic life and faith, our ~earts shall be enlarged, and we shall run with unspeakable sweetness of love in the way of God t s commandments ~ so that,never abandoning his rule but perseve~ing in his teaching dn the mçmastery'until death, we shall share by patience in the·sufferings. of Christ, that we may deserve to be partakers also of his Kingdom. Amen. (b)

ï

1

,

l,

,"

(a

(

r

(b)

RSB,

prologue..

Idem.

\

'

'.

..

--"'J---

--

48 -

J

Benedict saw his Rule as a synthesis of previo~s monastic

developments and thus, like them,(a) as but a practical application of the rudiments of the Gospel to contemporary conditions. 1

Cuthbert Butler pointed out that RSB begins with Christ, ever dwells on Christ and ends with Christ. ,

Thus The Instruments

Of Good Works - the 75 spiritual and moral precepts comprising chapter four of RSB - reveal nothing that is monastic in the technical , moral~ty

sense~

it is aIl mere Christianity, elementary

an d f un d amenta l re l"~g~on. 22

Justin McCann observed

that the three greatest charâcteristics-of Benedict fear (or awe)

of~God,

~

love of Jesus and sincerity

..'

-~OlY ~

are

precisely those which one would expect of a mature Christian. Bene'dict, he explained, conceived life as a journey to God in which aIl of onels actions were to be seen sub specie aeternitatis J and therefo~e ~ere oto be animated by spiritual motives. 23 Even 1

a cursory reading of RSB reveals the great extent to whlch it

.

,

(a) Adalbert de Vogüé explains that the so-called "RU1es" of Pachomius, Basil and Augustine were originally understood to be simply cobtemporary cornment~ries on, and applications of, the one rule foun~i~ Scripture •. This, he suggests was the historical origin and first theQlogie~l foundation - of the rule for monks~ the seeonq was the personal eharismatie authority of the legislator w~o had to be a- person with ~ mandate_Irom God to legislate for the intent~on of su'ch a group of men. Cf. "Sub Régula Uel Abbate" in ...-Rule And Life, ed. Basil Pennington (Spencer, Mass.: Cistercian Publications, 1971)', p~. 21-64.

(

l,

-

(:

49 -

is concerned with salvation and Judgement, and dominated throughout by the notion of the reign of Ch~ist and the King-

(1

dom of God. Benedictine life provided a holistic approach to living. It

deve~oped,

within the context of the monastic regimen, a

person' s physical, ment,al and social capacities.

It integrated

his interior and exterior being so that the whole man was consecrated to God.

The daily horarium, in a spirit more

moderate than that of early Egyptian monasticism and thus more appropriate for the ordinary person, balanced study, work and prayer so that the entire day was given up to deepening the

(

monk's communion with God and wi'h the brethren in peace, awareness and love.

p

David Knowles remarks:

,\ The Benedictine effort toward perfection, therefore, does not aim at an initial material renunciation nor at the imposition of a consistent universal culture on the mind and soule Its aim is rather by a sober use, by friction and assimilation, to establish a kind of equilïbrium in which açtive or intellectual work~ and interests are themselves a spiritual discipline and become spiritualized, 24 along with aIl the powers and ,.affections of the soul. ;ï

The principàl study of the monks was Scripture and the \

/

comm~ntaries

(

of the Fathers of the Church.

The

.

motiva~ion

was

primarily affective and sapiential rather\than speculative, sinée

,~ li

'. ~

;1 :r~

~ II

J

)

.

- 50 -

(

\t he~r " . 1 ate love for Go d _ al.m was to stl.mu

In oth er wor d s,_

spiritual wisd6m, not conceptu;l knowledge, was prized.(a) Work was both industria'l (in a primitive sense) and agricûltural and was intended to sustain the economfc self-

l

sufficiencyof the monastery.

'

It also'contributed to a healthy

and well-rounded life by integrating physi~al activity and fact, Benedict revolutionized the prevailing moral attitude toward work in the west by attaching dignity and value to it and by giving it an essential place in manls role as a steward of Godls creation. Benedictine prayer - indeed its spirituality as a whole -

(

was

~entered

in the communal celebration of the liturgy.

Here, at regular hours seven times during the day, the commu, nit~

put everything else aside in order to participate, together'

1

with the rest of the "Church, ,in Christ s 1

the Father.

Spir~:t-led

praise."of

The litqrgy was in this'sense the repository and

voice of the Church 1 s wisdom and life-spirit, and in it the monks were daily instructed and thus formed by the solid and

------,

(a) Benedict himself is said to·have abandoned bis studies in \ Rome as a young man because he felt that student life as he experienced it endangered his moral lite. Consequently, he left Rome altogether and went apart, into the wilderness . . to séek God. Pope Gregory the Great deseribed hirn as scienter neseius et sapienter incloctus ("Knowingly ignorant and wisely unlearned"). Cf. MeCann, pp. 37-46.

( "

o

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - . . . . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -...- -_ _ _ _ _.d,,~l._'

".~""~

/"

..

-

-

~

- 51 -

•

(

objective foundations of

t~eir

faith.

Indeed, on a personal

.\1

,0,

•

level, the psalms articulated for the monk s th elr/~wn Journey to Goh with its alterhations of light and darkness, satisfaction and unfulfilment, consolation and aridity.

They sought, there-

fore, to enter them interiorly and, above aIl, to worship God through them.

We

believe~

wrote Benedict:

that God is present everywhere ••• but let us especially believe this without any doubtingr when we are performin9 the Divine Office ••• Let us then consider how we- ought to behave ourse Ives in the presence of God and his angels, and so sing the psalms that mind and voice may be in harmony.(a)

1

Benedict did not say much about private prayeri he simply

\

/

told those who felt pray.

50

inclined to go into the oratory and

Their prayer, however, was to be short and pure unless

it happened to be prolonged by an insPirafion of divine grace, since they were t9 be heard by God not for their lengthy '\

speaki~g

but for their purity of heart and tears of cornpunction.(b) Clearly, the idea was that a faithful and loving observance of the life itself. would dee~en the monk's re~ollection and \ !\' ,

bring~m (

\

,1

into an ever more intimate and Spirit-filled union ,

With/GOd.

)' (a)

RSB c.19.

(b)

Ibid. c' s 20, 52.'

(

l~

j

- 52 -

(

It should \be noted in this regard that the tendency to make a sharp distinction between corporate and private or \

mental and vocal prayer is modern.

Prayer, for the monks of

the Roman period and of the Low Middle Ages was one and und~vided, whateve~ the form it might maniIest.

Thomas Merton comments:

,

In the ~ay of prayer, as described by the early monastic writers, meditatio must be seen in its close connection to psalmodia, lectio, oratio and contemplatio. It is part of a continuous whole, the entire unified life of the monk, conversatio monastica, his turning from the world to God ••• (These forros of prayer) involve the whole man, and proceed from the IIcenter of ,man's being, his "heart" renewed in the Holy Spirit, totally sUbmissive to the grace of Christ ••• The whole life of the morik is a harmonious unitY in whiqh various forros of .prayer have their proper time and place, but in which, in one way or another, the monk is considered as " praying always. "~5 ll

(

lear~

Simply put, Benedict intended his monks to

to walk

in the wa) of grace so that in aIl of their activities in this ~ife they might be pleasing to God and so ~~in'eternal life. Then, he wrptr:

'C

When aIl the degrees of humility have been climbed, the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out aIl ~eart whereby he will begin to.~ observe without labour, as though naturally and by habit, aIl those

,

\

~--

"-

T

-

1r

-,

,"f

., !

~

-

(

53 -

precepts which forferly he did not observe ~ithout fear: no longer for fear'of hell, but fot Love of Christ and through good habit and delight inlvirtue. - And this wi1l the Lord deign to show forth by the power of his Spirit in his workman now cleansed from vice and from sin. (a)

t

.

. ,

',\

(

11

(a)

Il

Ibid. c. 7.

\~

IF

(

-

II -

Benedict sought, in his efforts to adapt conternporary .

1

monasticism to cOJfitions of life in sixth century

It~ly, ~a)

both to reform existing practices and to synthesi,ze previous developrnents in the monastic sphere. monks to serve secular

soclety~

He did not,intend his

but rather God and each other.-

i

Nor had an individUil'S affirmation of a personal calI from

God to a life of monastic self-consecration and servic'e to be defended on any other grounds: it was its own reason and

, (

just~fication.

If, therefore, Benedictine monks retired from 1

the world and from an active life in the Church\- and the monastic life was the only genuine alternative at the

tim~

to a life in full contact with the world - it was in order

~o

Ipursue this search for Goa, work out their own salvation and worship God in holy living under those'conditions w~ich best promoted these

-~nds.

As far as his relatiGnship to otheF Christians was con\

,/

\

cerned, the Benedictine monk was not to consider himself

(

(a) F. Homes Dudden held that the monastic climate in Italy in the sixth century was altered chiefly through the exertions of Benedict, Cassiodorus and Pope Gregory the Great. Together, he suggested, they gave to Italian monasticism a new tone and purpose as weIl as an organization distincly western and appropriate to the char acter of western peoples. Gregory The Great Vol. II (London: Longrnans, Green & Co., 1905), p~. lQo-l.

r-'-~

,-

.,.-- -- r -

-

(

55 -

superior ta the cleric or the layman.

Quite the contrary, he

was to cease altogether from such vain speculations

,

Gr

desires,

and ta count himself as nothing befare Gad 'and before his fellow creatures

p

The novice was ta be tested in this regard

to deterrnine not only whether he truly saught God, but alsa whether he was zealous for the Work of Gad, for obedience and for humiliations. (~)

Even priests, when visiting the, monastery,

were to sUbscribe to the self-effacing discipline of the Rule and ,tlo give to aIl an e~ample of humility. (b)

In short, the

rnonastic life as Benedict conceived it, was to, be one of supreme interior paverty and self-renunciationi a lowly life hid with

. Christ

(

w

in God and

c~ara~terized 1

by the same radical self-

emptying such as Jesus himself had embraced (Phil. 2: 5-8). Thus the mank should, according to RSB: attribute to GO~, and not ta self, whatever good (he) sees in (himself) ••• not wish to be calle~ holy ••• but to be holy ••• believe in his inmost heart (that he is) ••• lower and of less account than ail others ••• say in his heart whatlwas said with down~ast eyes by the publican in the Gospel: Lord, l a sinner am not wbrthy to raise my eyes to heaven ••• (and always) practise fraternal charity with a pure love ••• (fo that God might) >& ,bring us aIl alike to life everlasting.(c)

! i

1

! r

i

\' 1

j.

(a) 'RSB

c~58.

• ...

(b), Ibid. c.6o'. (c) Ibid. c's 4, 7, 72. 1

,

,-

1

, "

J

- r

-

- 56 -

The RSB was for its author but a minimum rule for beginners. It instructed the monks to refer to the more authoritative writings of other monastic and Church Fathers.

Furthermore,

lit taught that the monk had ultimately to learn, in and through th~

liturgy, the sacred reading and indeed the life itself,

directly from the Holy Spirit.

In other words, the Benedictine

monk was firstly a Christian and, therefore, a mernber (and, ,

conversely, nothing outside) of the one, holy, catholic and ,' apostolic Church of Christ.

Il

A brief comparison of primitive Benedictinism with the

earlier coptic, Basilian and Alexandrian monasticism might .

(

be helpful here in providing us. witl)-, a

hisroric~l

focus of

their respective orientations towards the Church and the world.

Primitive Benedictinism, it is clear, more closely

resembled Alexandrian than Basilian monasticism in its ern, phasis upon the contemPlative life, and its correlative preference for solitude and enclusure 0ier against an expliéit 1

service orientation.

'On the other hand, it may have more

closely resembled coptic than Alexandrian monasticisrn in the sebse that Benedict, like Anthony, m~y have expected an imminent end of the age. It is difficult to know exactly when Benedict expected

(

,

the end of' the wor Id 1 1

'~,

,

come.

Perhaps, like many of his con-

:1 ç,

If•

. ' "

- 57 -

".; ;\, \

e

"~

Il, t,

Î'

temporaries, he thought it would coincide with the final

f

collapse of the Roman empire. it?

What, after aIl, could follow

On the other hand, Benedict 1 s creation of a self- suf;ficient

rnonastic community with its finely developed and weIl balanced

'\ life anticipated so weIl the future needs of Europe that one has to ask oneself whether Benedict was not in fact preparing, for an indefinite future?

Or again. perhaps he was sirnply

responding to conditions as they already existed in those last aays of

~rder

and civilization?

On the basis of RSB, one may

conclude that its intense concern with 'the Last Things'

"

provides support for the first choice.

( 1i

Since our present

knowledge of Benedict is seant, however, l do not think that

'.

'1

one should push

t~s

hykothesis too far.

position in this study

~s

Consequently, my

that the influence of Alexandrian

(and Basilian)-monasticism on primitive Benedictinism rnay have ,

been~~re~

by the possible intense 'eschatological

et~ta-

i ,

~

tions' . of the latter. \

L~

The attitude of the hierarchy toward the Benedictines ~as strongly positive beeause they believed that through them

, God was 1re-v,italizing rnonasticism in. Italy.

<

Life at the time

was turbulent and often brutal, (a) and it was\\very diffieult .(a) Benedict's life spanned the period of the barbarian invasions and the ~terrible Gothie War which ravaged the peninsula.

/

.-,-~

r-· -

~

.~----~­

!

,

- 58 -

.

for the' clergy to avoid its agitations.

Acc'ordingly, the

monastic life was increasingly seen by the Church as the best way of maintaining that degree of contemplative tranquillity and peaée which were so necessary for profound\:' spiritual growth. (a) Thus, not only were the monks a witness XO the belief that Christians ~~mained (Beb. 1'1: 13),

II

s trangers and pilgrims on this earth"

~b) but they were also perceived as k.eeping vitally "(

alive in the &.hurch the spirit of prayer and adoration. ,

,

Two of the canons of the Quinisext Council (A.D. 6,92)

(

(a) Thus Pope Gregory the Great, looking back on his early years as a monk lamented: "I remember with sorrow what l once was in the monastery, how l rose in contemplation above aIl changeable and decaying things, and the thought of nothing but the things of heaven~ how my soul, though pent within the body, soared beyond its fleshly prison, and looked with longing upon'death itself as the means of entering into life. But now, by reason, of my pastoral care, l have to bear with secular business and, after so tair a vision of rest, am fouled with worldly dust. l ponder on what l now endure. l ponder on what I~ave lost. For lo! Now am l shaken by the waves of a great s~a, and the ship of the soul is dashed the storms of a mighty tempest. And when l recall the \pondition of my former' life, l sigh as one who looks back and gazes on the shore he has left behind. Il Dudden (VOl. r), p. 119.

br

!

(b) Cf. RSB: lIThe life of a monk ought at aIl times to be lenten in character ••• (The monk is) to desire eternal life ~ith aIl spiritual longing' ••• to keep death daily before hd.s eyes ••• (Hè is..,one ;who) hastens to his heavenly country. Il (c 1 s 49, 4, 73).

(

'\

• read: ,

/

It is very beneficial to cleave to God by from the noise and turmoil of life ••• fhe life of solitudeO (has) ••• an itiherent beauty and honour ••• lt is lawful for every Christi~n to choose the life of religious discïpiine, and, setting aside the troublous surgings of the affairs of this life, to enter a monastery.26 ~etiring

,

~

Il " "

:t l'

~,

That the RSB brought

.

Il

"

~onasticisJ

to an

~rivalled

h;eight

\

~

within the Western-Church cannot be in_doubt.

~

Not only did it

gain a graduaI but steady afcendency over aIl other Rules, but

~

f,

t

it also had, because of its adaptability, an immense and forro-

(

,>

"

l-

~" ~

ative influence upon the social and economic life of Christian \

(

~

1

,"

Europe during what have been rlghtlY ca;.ied 'the Benedictine

.

~

,,

centurie4'.

~,

.

Indeed, it was to prove to be, in both its

" 1

altered and primitive forms, a continua! source of renewa!

~

r

•

!

tç

in the spiritual, moral and political life of the great Church.

t

t

,

1

,

f

t

l, f\ ,

(

! "

o

,

1

.,, SECTION FOUR -

BARLY CISTERCIAN MONASTICISM _ ll~ _

The early cistercians did not so much accuse Cluniac konasticism of

be~orruPt

or decadent às of having lost

its original Benedictine character.

Cluny - founded in

A • .I>.

910 under the influence of the Carolingian reforms of the ï l'" ,~~

Synod of

1

(

~achen

(A.D. 8l7)(a) - was at the

h~ight

of it)

powers and prestige in the eleventh century and its influence

~~

•~.

,

extended, th:OUg~ut Christian Europe.

~

l'

Together with its many

l

daughter-houses, it owned immense tracts of land and great

\î,

!t

wealth and exercised control over a large proportion of the

(

1

local peasants, including thousands of serfs.

,, ,;

As a\ consequence,

however, it beèame entangled with numerous,dependencies, and responsibilities and deeply involved in both ecclesiastical

outs~de

and worldly -affairs

of its proper jurisdiction.

It

- h~d, in other words, departed from its original monastic purpose. 1 Cluny·s wealth

power, status and social involvement

r

drew people to it who were often not,

-

spiritually ipclined or motivated.

strictlY~Speaking,\

The practice of child

\ \

oblation and the wranglin.g over privileges and positions further ___+i__ .

(

.. '

(a) Benedict of AnianeJC~e so-called second ~ounde~ of' Benedictinism - was the driving force behihd these reforms. \ ~,

\

..

/

:

1 \. -; r

.. .. .

1

.

/

- '/61

(

compounded the prob1em.

Moreover, the life of the black

monks (a) had becorne undu1y l;p-sided because' of an ex~ensive

.

Th~ tra?ièional balance

prolongation of the (èhoral) Office. "

between the Opus Dei, Lectio "Dj,vina, and Labor Manuurn had been 1fst because of the aqcumulation of a mass of liturgica1 ob-

s~rvances

and customs.

The monks

th~s

spent most

o~

their

t:!zne in choir, rela"t;ivel'y litt1e in reading land, by the e1eventh century, none at aIl in manua1 labour. This development transformed the Jitherto Shott and

\

simple liturgy of the eajlY Benedictines into a ponderous and, complicated affaire

(

The Cluniac ideal had been that the monks

r)'

represented the vanguard of Christians in,that the y were 'guiding the world:,

tow~rds

J

its true destiny - the earthly

imitation bf the angelic choir in'heaven - the worship of God in the Church.

In actual fact, however ,'. the inner -meaning

o~ the Office, partly under the influ~nce of the strongfY

liturgical orientation of certain non-Benedictine monastic trends and partIy because of the highly ordered character of contemporary

West~rn

Christendom, had

und~rgone

a

subtl~

,A

(a) ThE;! cistercian~ were first. called "gray'" and then fina;Lly "wllite" monks lin contrast to the traditional "black" habit of the Benedictines. ...

( c

.'

.,

-,

-........,.......--------------...--...,..----,------ --------------- --

.

-----

-

62 -

)

\

(

transformation. (a)

It was irtcreasingly interpreted in a

rather meéhanistic and ritualistiè fashion as a guid pro (

i ~,

qUO

in which the monks performed a fixed role in society by # (1 praising God on behalf of the Church, by interceding in ~

ptayer for others aJ'l,d by thus calling down God's graces for His people.

fot enqugh consideration, f,;-.om the point of view (,

of the future Cistercians, was being given to the more important interior dimetJ,sions of monastic servic,e and prayer. The beginnings of the cistercian Order can be dated to the ylear

A. D.

1098 when Robert of Moleome and subsequently \

Alberic and Stephen H~rding foùnded the Citeaux. (b) t

1:

'New Monastery 1 of ,

The

cisterci~'

movement has to be seen in thel

'

context of the widespread upheaval - the crisis, in fact, of a changing civilization - which was taking, place in Europe 'at the ti.rne>.

This upheaval was characterized, in the religious

,

~avid

Knowles makes the point that .. Benedict did not expect or o:t;der that (his monks) should carry out the elaborate and so'lemn public worship .of Gdd which was then being brought to perfection at Rome, at Milan, at Lyons and else, where ••• (that) to put nothing b~fore the Opus Dei~ ••• , was not ••• the announcement of a 'policy or an ideal but t a simple interpretation ••• of the divine command that the direCt service of God (was to be a primary) duty of a \Chri.stian. -II The Benedictines (Abridged Version) (St.' Leo, Florida: Abbey Press, 1962), p. 13. 1 The word "Cistercian" der ives from Citeaux, itSjlf named after the reeds - cistels in BurgWldj.an patois which abounded in the marshy woodland of the ,area. 0

• t

\1: -~

-

1

63 -

" domain, by a renewed emphasis upon poverty and asceticism, solitude and the spiritual legacy of early Christian and monastic history.

The Cistercians sought./-o disengage them-

selves from the man y encumbrances of worldly involvement and therefore founded monasteries oin isolated and uninhabited reg ions.

Here they returned to a more pure and exact obsel1vance

of RSB. (a)

They simplified the

~iturgy and did away with many

of the mitigations of the RSB and other superfluities which had introduced fine clothes, abundant food, ornate decorations, muraIs and paintings into the Benedictine abbeys.

a

restored manual labour to an integral place

i~

They also e daily

h~.rariUrn.

The Exordiurn Parvum, an

~arly

Ciste;rcian

ocument, reads:

In thus taking the rectitude of the le as the norm on conduct for their whole w of life, they fully complied with s in' eccle~iastical as weIl as in other observance and arranged themselves accordingly. way, discarding the old man, they enjoye putting on the new one ••• and behold ••• the new soldiers of Christ, poor themselves as Christ was poor ••• poverty (is) the safeguard of the virtues ••• denounced the riches of the wor Id ••• and f led f rom ( i t) (thereby) livJ.ng up to th~ etymology of their name. 27

(a) ~

The early cistercian documents do not speak of a "literal" observance of RSB since Benedict himself had allowed that circumstances coula. calI .,for adaptations of his ,Rule. The institution of laY"'"brothers, for ins~~ce, was dksigned precisely to enable the dhoir-monks ta "fulfil perfectly the precepts of the. Rùle day and night." "Exordium 'Parvwn" in LOuis\ Lekai: The White Monks (Wisconsin: Cistercian Fathers :Publications, 1953), p. 2'63.

1

\

r

,

1.'

,

,

r·

,i' .

,"I~

'1'

- 64 Befo.re long the solitude, simplicity, pdverty, austerity Cist~rcian

"

and egalitarianisrn of

life began to attract Christiars

,

eager.) for an ,evangelical and integra,l monastic experience un-

\

,

compromised

b~

involvement with the world.

Again the Exordium Parvum records what followed:

Through the example (of the first Cistercian,s) • •• upon whom God poured out His deepest mercy old and young:, men of every walk of life and from various parts of the- world became encourag,ed since , they saw through them that what they hàd feared impossible, the observance of the Rule, was possible. So they began to flock together there in order to bow their proud necks under the sweet yoke of Christ, and to love fervently the rigourous and burdensome precepts of the Rule, and they began'to rnake (Citeaux) wonderfully happy and strong .28

(

Bernard of Clairvaux was one of 'those who went to citeaux

(A.D. 1112) and thence, after onlt \three years,

1

l '

~o\

the new

foundation whicb soon became identified with bis name.

t

more than anyone else drew men to the new

, 1f

\

its dynamic

it

"

impulse~

mov~ment,

and shaped it;:; character.

He

gave it

Indeed,

w~at

was originally intended, on the part of the first generation

.

of Cistercians, to be a simple restoration of the monastic

,

\~

life according to the primitive Benediçtine ideal,) soon developed, 4nder Bernard's guidance, into a more explicitly ,

(;

\

\

mystical venture.

Bernard emphasized the individual and

T

- 65

~

int.erior dimensions of the rnonastic life and -the prirnacy of

1

self-consecration to the perfest love of God. Accordingly, Bernard's criticism of Cluniac rnonasticism was not that it was unholy, but rather that it was Inadequate for those'who needed

stricte~ discipline

more contemplative mode of life. 1~

spir~t

il

and who desired a'

Thus, although the cistercian

was basically the sarne as that_of the primitive Bene-

\

dictines, the accent with regard to the search for God was,

,t è

by virtue of the particular emphasis of the eleventh century

t"

rnohastic renewal, more upon the personal and contemplative than

{ ;

~

;.

~ le f

upon the communal and liturgical aspects of the life.

(

,,1,

,

1 1 1

1

,

Our place is at the bottom, is humility, is poverty, obedience'and joy in the Holy Spirit. Our place is under a master, under an abbot, under a rule, under ·discipline. Our place is to cultivate silence,to exert ourselves in fasts, vigils, prayers, manual work and, above aIl, to keep that more excellent way which is the way of love: -furthermore, to advance day by day in these things and to persevere in them until the last day (his emphasis).29

}

volunt~ry

,

fr ;

1 1

Bernardine accent can be seen in his portrayal of the Cistercian spirit and ideal:

t ,

This

1 1

i

The influence i

poverty and

ot

~olitude.

the conternporary

Europe~n

movement toward

and atso, perhaps, of Guigo the Carthusian, \ ~

whose meditative writings made

1

( /

deep

impre~sion

upon Ber!lard,

'

-,- J

-

1

66 -

is evident here. Einally, despite this eremitical influence upon early -Cistercian (i.e. Bernardine) spirituality, it is important to recognize that the Cistercians helped to preserve Benedict of \

Nursia's cenobitic model of the monastic life precisely at a •

1

r

time when this renewal\ff the eremitical life was making a serious challenge to the foundations of traditional Benedictine '~monasticism.

They reaffirmed the shaken authority of Ben;edict

+ and his Rule while reinvigorating the old structure

through

their innovative reforms. (a) This faith in the enduring value of RSB was central to '1

/

(a)! "Three basic ideas ••• seem to have guided the eleventh century monastic renewal: poverty, eremitism and apostolic life (i.e. the life of the apostolic community at Jerusalem) , ••• The revival of eremitism was closely linked with the new concept of poverty as an idea as weIL as a historical phenomenon. The hermit not only withdrew frorn society but lived in total renunciation, in total poverty, both internaI and'external ••• Eremitisrn, just as the newand strict interpretation of poverty, emerged as a reaction to the prevailing standards of1monastic li~e, a spont~eous protest against the cornfort and quiet daily routine of monks of great abbeys which no lon~~r presented sufficient challenge to souls yearning for the heroie life of the Desert Fathers. This attitude clearly irnplied that in the eyes of the'new generation of refoxmers eremitical life appeared higher (in value) 'than life spent under RSB. Louis r..e'~ai:\, The Cistercian Sp=irit, ed. Basil -Fennington (Shannon, Ireland: Irish University ~ress, 1970), pp. 35-8 •. Il

67 -

Bernard's

conce~tion

of the rnonastic life.

Consequently, he

could say:

There can be no doubt as to the true holiness of this way of life which was designed by divine inspiration and wisdom rather than by human prudence or ingenuity. It is,surely for this reason that Benedict attained a peak of holiness in life as great as was his glory and happiness after death. 30 \

/

\

~-~

I-~~

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II -

Bernard betieved that only confusion and darkness were to be found outside of the Christian world of faith, order and meaning and that, psychologiéally speakiJ;lg, distress and·

". misery characterized the life of those who lived according to self-will and cupidity.

Genuine love for others, moral \

goodness, peace, joy aqd inner harmony could only come from 1

a faithful conformity ta the life of the Kingdom of God, that is, from a true practice of that Christ-life which fully in\

carnated it. He commented:

For this is the prdperty of that eternal and just law of God, tha~ he who would not be ruled with gentleness by God, ,should be ruled as a punishment by his own self: . and that aIl those who have willingly throym off the gent le yoke and lighlt burden of Love should bear unwillingly the unsupportable burden of their own will. 31

The purpose of asceticism and obedience to the cross of Christ was not to spurn the creation as though i t were inhetent~y evil.

Rather, it ~as, according to Bernard, to

adhere with aIl one 1 s heart to the order, leauty and good which had been willed by God from the beginning, had then been eorrupted by sin, and whieh Christ had sinee come to restore

(

- 69 -

,

in the worlq. and in man and -bis corrununity.

\

AlI human endeavor,

\

taught Bernard, should therefore tend to God by way of knowi ledge,and love. The quest for truth should lead to the conternplation of truth, to the cruclfied Christ who reveals himself in order to give life and in whom are stored aIl ~he treasures of wisdom.

The study of the content of revelation

should lead to union with the will of God, to onels own crucifixion to the world of sin and to a beginning of the \

resurrection

life~

Bernard 1 s response to the great question

of -his century as to the imPortanc\e of love in hum an life (a) wa~

(

to orient everything towards the love of God and of onels

neighbour in Christ.

(a)

Man should love God, he believed, because

Since the rniddle of

~he

eleventh century there was behind the increasingly vigorous intellectua~ movements a def~nite tendency toward ernotional.ism, with a specifie emphasis on ~he motive of love. Since neither the for~ of its expression nor its mora~ imputability was yet clarified, the problem caused considerable ,confusion in public opinion as weIl as \~ong men of l:lterature and theology.' The extremists were represented by'two heretical movements ••• the Albigensians (for whom) the flesh and carnal desires, consequently love and marritilge,"IIIare evil • .'. the Troubadours (who) elevated women to a pedestal ••• and ignored the principles'of Christian morality ••• St. Bernard, with the heart of a Troubadour himself, p~aced the motive of love in the center' his mystical theology, teaching that affectionate love of God was thè only way of approaching the final goal of Christian perfection, the union of tne hurnan soul with its Creator. Il Lekai: The Whi~6 Monks. pp. 39-40. Il

JOf

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70 -

God first loved him and was always seeking hirn in order that

Il

'

he might love God, his neighbour and himself with the same love with which the Triune God loves Himself. To reject the love of God was to be a child not of God but of wrath and to place oneself not on the

~hres»old

glory but in the dark places by the gates of death.

of

Free will

constituted fok Bernard the 'image' of God in man, but only its consecration to qod would restore man's 'likeness' to Rim.

Such a restoration -

the, journey :trom the 'region of

unlikeness' to the Kingdom of God - could be effected only through

1

gra~e,

the transforming power jof the indwelling Holy

Spirit of Christ. is Bernard's

It is interesting to note here how modern

conscious~ess

of self - the sûbjectivity in which t

the modern spirit-was born -

and his particular form of humanism,

that is, his belief that self-consecration to the perfect love l

'

of God and of aIl creatures in God represented the true'fulfilment of man's nature and destiny. The monastic life, and especially cistercian (contemplative life, represented, according to Bernard, the best way to fut into practice the life of love and of spiritual perfection. It was, if not the unique, at least thé safest It Jas therefore sorne.

desiJ~le

ray

to

.for aIl and,

The monk, hé hEnd, having turned his face

the " "

J:.

•

,

/ -

Il

71 -

true and

heaV~nlY

Jerusalem - the Kingdom prepared for him

from the

beginni~g

of the world - had chosen with Mary the

best part ofl aIl (Cf. Lk. 10:38-42). Bernard commented: ,

l think that monastic profession can be considered as a second baptism •• : because of the more perfect renouncement of the world and the singular excellence of/such a $pirituat wayof life. It makes those who live it and love i~ stand out from other men as rivaIs of the angels and as hardly men at aIl; fQr it restores the divine (likeness) in the human soul and makes us Christlike, much as baptism does. It is also like another baptism in that we mortify the earthly side of our nature 50 that we may be mo~e and more clothed with Christ, being thus again "buried in the likeness of his death" (Rom. 6: 5). Jus,t as 'in baptism we are delivereçl from the power of darkness and carried over into the Kingdom of light, 50 1ikewise in the second regeneration of this holy profeasion we are refashioned in the light of virtue, being delivered, not now from the unique 'darkness of original ~in, but from many actual sins, according to that cry of the apostle: IIthe night is far advanced and the day is at hand" (Rom. 13:12).32 Bernard spoke of the cistercian monastery as a school l

of self-giving love in which the monks learned the mysterious ways of the Spirit

~y

acquiring an ever deeper detachment from 1

self and purity of heart, and by displacing fear and cupidity by love by way of the practice of

h~ility.

)

..

He remarked: •

0

(To) give ourselves to outward things ,(would be to) aban~on the true and everlasting yalues of

-

72 -

God's Kingdom which is within us. The monk is supposed to be a poor man and spiritual ••• his attire the spirit o~ prayer and humility.33

Bernard was confident thatj generosii:y of spirit and ardent faith would be rewarded,with God's good blessings, the 'kiss' of Christ. to be a

1

IdeallY

claustral paradise '

tnerefore, the monastery was

r J'n which the monks

a foretaste of the blessednes

.

might enjoy \

of heaven.

J

Ours is a paraaise .,. beautified, like that of 'old, by the waters from four fountains ••• the fountain of mercy which washes away the stains of our sins; the foqntain of wisdom which gives the waters of discretion for allaying our spiritual thirst; the fountain of gr ace and devotion which irrigates the plants of our good works and the labours of our penance and abstinence; the fountain of ~ove which enflames our hearts ••• These four fountains our Blessed Lord otfers to us in His own Person while we still live on earth. A fifth, which is the fountain of eternal life, He promises to give us in the world to come. 34 Q

\'

There was for Bernard and the early Cistercians and, indeed, for aIl who adhered to the patristic tradition, anJ

\"

-

ever present tension between tbis-worldly concerns and the call~of

the beyond.

Therein lay the cause for their detach-

ment from the things of this world, the source ofl their hJpe -

,

tHe expectation bf

~nd incli~ation

towards the heavenly

\

Jerusalem -

and their unquenchable thirst for an ever more

/

- ...

-

-

e-

intimate union with God.

73 -

Thus Bernard cou,ld exclaim:

Thanks be to God, through Whose mercy in this our pilgrimage, in this our banishment, in this our state of misery, unto us consolation also has greatly abounded. For this ,reason we have taken care to adrnonish you that this our distance from our heavenly country should not be long absent from our mind, and that we should b~ found ever hastening onwards to our heaveniy iqheritance. He that knows not desolation,cannot appreciate consolation, and whoever~ is ignorant~ that consolation is necessary shows plainly·that he is not in God's favour. 35 How did early C'istercian monasticism compare, wlth regard o

.

to its orientation towards the Church and the world, with the

1

monasticism of the Roman period? An

o~vious

point becomes apparent as soon as one looks

at the historical and monastic context in which each arose.

--

.

The Church and 'the world had become one in Christian Europe by the eleventh century in the sense that a society which had still been largely pagan in the fourth and even

c~ntury

was now

c~mpl~tely Chri~t~anized.

~e

sixth

Moreover, monasticism

had now assumed a status in Christendom ,much greater and more pervasive than that which it had known during the Roman periode •

The Cistercians, therefore, were separatidg thernselves from a society which was now not only lthoroughly Christiap but also one in which the monastic tradition was deeply entrenched and widely respected.

Thus, whereas the primitive ,Benedictines ' \1

-

Ir -

-

had offered almost the only

74 alt~rnative

to a life in full

contact with a pagan world, the Oistercians were reacting •

against an ecClesiastical culture and a Cluniac monasticisrn which was strong ahd

health~.

This belief that the Cluniac observance was still too worldly and insufficiently monastic (i.e. in the primitive Benedictine sense) reflected both the current widespread ." desire for solitude, poverty and the apostolic life on the

.'

/

one hand, and Bernard's particular 'eschatological perspective' on the other. Early cisterctan rnonasticism resembled primitive Bened-

r

ictinisrn in its preference for the cenobitic over the eremitical

\

life and in its emphasis upon contemplative solitude as opposed to the service orientation of Basilian

~onasticism.

whereas the latter had incorporated the personal and

Yet, contempla~ive

aspects of Egyptian_monasticism into its own more cbrnmunai and liturgical regimen, Bernard allowed this Egyptian (and contemporary eremitfcal) s~irit to temp~r th~ cistercian observance of RSB. pective

Another po~sible differenèe with r~gard to their res-

expectat~ons

as to the imminency of the parous'ia wil'l

depend on one's estimation of Benedict's views in this

"

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75 -

iegard. (a) '.

In any case, BeFnard, in his perception of of the Kingdom of

GOd~

t~~ 't

dynamics •

,

-

o O' 12oke A1 exandr2an put the emphas2s,

monasticism before h±m, not on i'bs future, consummation but rather on its presence as a hidden, spiritual reality with .

which the Christian mystically communes, as it were, through

1

O a pragress2ve converS2on, of lOf 2 e an d 2nter2or t rans f orma t 20n o

in the Spirit.

0

0

0

Man'S exile from the Kingdom of God, tapght,

Bernard, was commensurate with his spiritual ignorance and, \

,

.r

,

above aIl, lack of love: (b)

If the soul lives by the love of God just as the body lives by the soul, how, l ask, can one contend that it is more present where it gives life than where it receives it? Love is the fountain of life ••• he who loves God,is with God according ta the measure of his love. 'Insofar as he fails to love, to that extent he

1Î

(a) They may also have differed from it witq regard to the practice of hospitalitYi specificaliy, fin the degree to which each monastic community\separate5 itself from its' , guests. So great was theif d~sire_to tV~i~ worldiy contact, and such were the social customs which had deve10ped in the intervening centuries withregar~ to ryal and ecclesiastical /"visitors, that the ~istrrcians conside ed it imperative to '" ~tain a stricter pol+cy of enclo~ur~ than had been necessary in Benedict's time. Thus~ the'cistercian practice allowed only the Guestrnaster and occasionally the abbot J to make themselves avàilable to- guests. \ (h) Early Cistercian differed from the more thoroughly Christian Platonist Alexandrian monasticism in preferring to emphasize' love rather than gnosis.•

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is yet in exile ••• The ~gdom of heaven and its justice are to be sought within your own souls rather than outside or above ,them ••• ~ ,Our rewa!d is n0 to b~ :ound'i~ ~ny passible 36 . or changeable thlng but ~n a SpJ..rltu~1 heaven.

7

-

The early cistercian preference for greater solitude, silence, pQverty and austerity and a

m~re

integraL observance

of RSB thus followed naturally not 'bnly from their dissatisfac- . tion with current'monastic attitudes and practices, but also 1

..

from their belief that such measures better promoted 'a !l>rofound , interior experience.of the life of the Kingdom of God. Let us now look at the relationship between the monks

-,

and the hierarchy.

<'

Bernard was alwàys a faithful servant of the"Church

c

(

and it is weIl known €o what extent he single-handedly in\

1

•

rluenced the outcome of ev~ntslin Europe both in the halls \

,

:

of popes and kings and among the common people.~ He opposed ,

,

~

the abbots in his Order who sought to withdraw from the a'J..thor.ity of their bishops.

the~selves

Such an attitude, he' \.\

~eld, was not i~spired by God. Indeed, in the ea~ly days of ~e

Order-these

~oor'and ~~ten

.

threatened monasteries were

helped, both materially and politically, by

th~

local bishops.

' .

l

Without" tPeir ,support and that of: go~e~ it ts possïble that

.

\\.

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the cistercians might have been forced back into the Benedictine .'

fold.

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,

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1

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77

1

Betnard taught that 'aIl Christians are the same Church,

~it~ens

of one and

in heaven and on earth, and that those who

are baptized form a single corrununity: " he aven and the Church. The two are one in Christ, he explained, the only difference

\,

\

bè~~g that in this life the Christian sees throu9P a glass

darkly, whereas in heaven it will be face to face.

The

monastery was seen as a myste y within the heart of the mystery

1

of the Church.

It was a sacrament, that is, both a reality

.

~nd

a sign revealing to the Church and to the world that the '~. .; Kingdom of God is dynamically present, th~ugh the power of the risen Lord, to the first directly and explicitly and to

•

the second lndirectly and implicitly. l, 1

.~e

of the

cister~ian ~onks.

therefore. was to

witn~s

by their lives to the two basic realities Qf the

fa~.

First,

/

~o

the primacy and

exceflenc~ of -the

Kingdom

.....

.

qf God, the hidden Ground):"and Source of aIl that ü'1, the

~wmnwn bonum of

all authentil:: human life:-

Second. to a holy

koinonia which i5 the manifestation in human'corrununit) of

••

that profound and mysterious reality wh!ch is loving cornmunio~ of life

wi~

the

ra~ger,

in the Son, through the Holy Spirit.

One can, however, di$cern a certain ambivalence in Bernard with regard to the relative merits of the Cistercian

c

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, "

, "

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1

78 -

Order vis-à-vis both other monastic groups' and the rest of the Church.

On the one hand, he taught that there were diverse

forms bf service within the Church.

.

It was love and the ,

"

disposition of the heart that mattered. man y forrns.

What

~s

This Lbve could take

important was not so much the forro but

the love, the Spirrt of life and of truth.

After aIl, G?d

gave of His graces as He chose according to the mysterious ,

designs of His providence. pss~sp

\

,

"

Man, for his part, could not

merit in this life, since he saw only the

and was' unaPle to pene1'?.a.:t:e to the heart.

wo~ks

done

Bern~r4 perceived

-

in this regard that even . the desire for contemplation could at times r~resept mere~y a covert selfishness 'ànd opposition to the will of God. O~

the other hand, in his

en~husiasm

for Cistercian life, -"

Jt

Bernard saw his monks as a spiritual elite whose lives were

..

consecrated to God to a greater

d~gree,

and thus with a

\ .greater excellence, than was possible elsewhere. J'ean

~clercq

1

connnents-:

\

Bernard is so persuaged,that the new observance o~~~e Rule suff~~es toassure the interior renewal of ~every~monk who adheres to it, that he ~nds to attrïbute to Citeaux and its institutions a monOpoly~of aIl true monastic renew;l •• ~· On'account of the,authoritarianism which is the dis~dvantage of his strong personality, this great man\ of the spirit cornes to'the point of enclos~g the charism "

\

1

',)

-\

. , ..

~

1-

.. - r r'

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1

79 -

1

1

within a structure that limits its possibilities

j

,of realiZatib~\7

This ambivalent att\tucte was shared~by, other early Cistercians, sorne of the black monks.

who~Jbecame 'rather

condescending towards

In order to counter the gr.owing puritanism "-

and self-satisfaction of his fellow Cistercians, and perhaps to clarify for himself his own views of the matter, Bernard

...

wrote his famous Apologia to William, the of St,\ Thierry. the two groups by

abbot

In it, he sought to restore hat'mony between defend~g

the holiness of Cluny against

his own over zealous monks, and by

1

Bene~ictine

expl~\ining

the reasons

for which some,)Christians thought it des,irable to pursue a

/

sfricter course of life.

This weIl publicized work helped

\

to diffuse a lot of the tension, though sorne no doubt remained in the continuing competition between the two

mon~stic

falilies.

For the most part, therefore, the early Cistercians were ~ . ~

strongly

su~portive

, \

of the Church as a fraternal and basically

1 egalitarian society.

\\

The hierarchy ~or' its part held the Cistercians in high ,esteem.

Pope paschal wrote:

•

One part of you has left the broad roads of the world, another even the less'str~~aths of a laxer monastery. Consequently, in order that you may be considered always more and more deserving

",

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"

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80 -

,

10U

of this graee, must stri~e to keep alway,s in your he~rts the fear and love of God, so that the more free you are of th~ noises and pleasures of the Jbrld, the more you aim to please God wlth aIl the powers of your mind and soul. 38

Pope Eugene III, hirnself a Cistercian and former monk· 'of Clairvaux, spoke of, their setting a "prophetie example"

39

by their holy witness to the Kingdom of God. In short, the startling suecess ,

.

~nd

rapid growth, indeed,

\

explosion of the Order throughout Christian Europe convinced the whole of Christendom not only of the

Gisterc~ans'

sure

f

appreeiation of'the religious needs and aspira~ions of the

c

"..

time, but alsp of their spiritual authentieity and pUrpose in

\\

Gad' s plan for His people.

\

1

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\1

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,1

/

1 \.. , PART

THREE

A STUDY OF TRENDS IN, AND DIMENSIONS OF, THE CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATIVE MONASTIC LIFE .\

c

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1

, \ "

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~

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1

SECTION PIVE - WORLDVIEWS AND TRENDS \- l

(a)

-

Chrlstian contemplative monasticism represented a particular response to the savi~g activity of God in history and human

ex~e~ience.

on the part

o~

It bespoke thetprofound conviction

the monks

th.a~ each

of them personally }lad

been called by God to a life 9f total self-consecration ta Him and His Christ, and to that Kingdom WhlCh is in the world but not of it, yet which is the true home of Christians.

Il

So far as the monks were concerned, were it not for the resurrection of Jesus and the inauguration of the Kingdom of Christ on earth, one would be hard \\

~ressed

tp make any

real sense of their way of ,life,. let alone account for tthe 'new aqd abundant life'

whic~

.

they had discovered in it.

-

The very raison d'être I f contemplative mon~sticism, they held,

lay in this celebration and ever

de~per

realization,of 1\.

sonship in Christ, that is, of the Kingdom of Gad.

(a) This chapter will outline the general monastic selfunderstanding and worldview of the Roman period and of the Low Middle Ages in the light of·their respective i 'eschatofogical perspectives'. It will then contrast ' the essentially patristic worldview of the monks of this first millennium of Christian histo~~ with that of the Modern Age. ,

\(

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83 -

The spirltual and prophetlc authenticity of the monastic modality of Christlan discipleship and

~itnesJ'had

been

recognlzed by the hièrarchy almost from the beginning,. Athanaslus, as we

hav~

seen, viewed the monastic lite as a

distinctive and inspired wltness to the charlsmatic heritage of the Church, and as an important complement to the latter's other, more secular aspects.

Similarly, Augustine upheld

its value by arguing that Christianlty has a double form: "

it lslthe authoritative visible Kingdom, the Clty of God 1

,

whose foundations are not in this present worldi it is also · . d om t h e lnner Klng

0 f

community was seen by

' 40~ contemp l atlon.

~he"

aS a witness to the hidde {"

Thus, the monastic t an early date bath

of the Spirit apd, ex-

panding upon an idea suggested by Clement of Alexandria, (a)

i

i1.

\,

as a rich reservoir and channel of Divine Love for the whole Body of the phurch. Let us now look at each of the two monastic periods in

\

~

turn. It remains an open questiDn as to whether or not the

\

primitive Benedictines shared the intense 'eschatological ~

·c \

'

(aJ Just as the Who~ Church w prese t in each local church, so, taught Clement, did the ct istian gnostic, ma\fked by the entire wealth of conununion· th Gad, 'tecome a tneans of conveying God 1 s Divine Love ta the Churc~

;--,-- r- ---- -

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84 -

expectations' of the Coptic monks.

What is certain,

ho~ever,

is that neither of thern accepted the nO,tion that Christians could simply settle down in the worlcr and find a secure or profitable place in it.

Rather, Christians were

and pllgrlms on the earth"

(Heb.

Il:13).

alien and dying world and would soon -

'~strangers

They inhabited anl

,

a certainty with

regard to Anthony, a possibility with regard to Benedict be rescued fromlit with the return of Chrlst and the consummation of the Kingdom.

The world was alien not because,

as Gnosticism or Manicheanism taught, it was inherently \

evil, but rather because it was sinful in that it had rejected

1

Christ Jesus and his calI to repentance and covenant.

It

was dying because, w~th the inaug~ration of the Kingdom o~ c~rist, ~

the "form of this wor1d (nad begun to) pass away"

(I Cor. 7: 31) • •

'0

Al though they carne after Constantine l chrono-loglcally, the ear1y Egyp~iàn and primitive Benedictine mopks, given \ their 'eschatologica1 perspectives', cou1d a1most be con-

\

siderek '. pre-constantinian' in their part:i,cu1ar theo1ogica1 (.

self-understanding and orientation.

Th~

monastic life for

\

these mtrnks of the Roman period cou1d sti1' be'seen, in other words, in relation to a predominantly secular socfety,

c

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and a Church still in the process of

deterrnin~ng

its place

in the world of these 'in-between times'. The principal responsibility of the Church in this

p~iOd,

from the point of view·of the monks, was to defend the Faith against the final desperatelassaults of the evil Prince of , this world, to be a shepherd to the faithful and to bring , ,

within the fold as man y as God would give them from the world. The primary concern of the monks themselves was twofold. \

First, to respond tf the calI of God and to the demands of the Gospel of Christ in a prayerful life of study, work and praise.

c

Second, given their concern

diminution

i~

~bout

the apparent

much of the great Church of the intensely

Spiri t- filfed life of primitive/ Christianity togethe'r wi th ,ip

1

its critical break with the world, 'tb embody and promdte that charismatic and other-worldly ideal in â contemplative monastic life of total self-consecration to God. •

\ Bernard and the early C.istercians perce1ived the Kingdom ,

of God as a hidden spiritual reality to ,

b~

sought 'within',

\1

and to be enj'oyed and celebcratèd in this life as a beginning in expectation of its full enjoyment in the next.

The time

of i ts conswmnation was relegated te> an indeterminable .future •

.-

\

C

Christianb were in exile, according to Bernard, to the

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86 -

extent to which their 'likeness' to Christ'had yet to be

.

restored, that 'is to say, in the measure in ,whi' ch they had \ not yet found their true self in loving and serving God and each other with the same love which Christ Jesus had manifested. When ~e\sPoke of the world as alien and as a place of darkness 1

and of death, therefore, he was referring to its

cha~acter

as

a 'region of unlikeness' where people were e\stranged fromGod and from thernselves because they resisted, or were in open opposition to,

~his

Spirit of (self-giving) Love which ,is thé

.

\

\ Ground and Source of truth and of life.

of the'monks was, first, to encourage the construction,

cultur~'

order which would reflect

~he

\

\

pol~tical

defence and expansion of a Christian-inspired and

~

\

The proper ta~k of the Church from the point of view

.'

\

cosmological

1

\

arder and where the,princi\les of the Kingdom of God would be better served.

And secorrd, t\

le~d

the People of Gad

towards an ever purer love for G6d and for each other ln\

.. ,

holy living.

migJ~

One

'add in this regard that the Church's self-

understanding was, until the ascendancy of Scholasticisrn

'\.

!~ ,1 ,~

o

~

, j

in the latter part of the

twelft~century,

it had been in the t'ime of the 1;athers. much as an institution .or

\ ,

\\

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much the same as

It was seen not so

organizatio~ but~rather ~s ~

\\

/

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the

-

87 -,

Mystical Body and Servant of

Chris~,

the presence of God's

redemptive love and mercy among men and the organism of their manife'station to the world, where the transforming revelation of the \

My~tery

Sim~larly,

was accomplished.

with regard to

the teaching of the Church, Etienne Gilson has observed:

From Gregory the Great to Bernard the objective content of revèlation was unchanged as were the practical demands which union with God makes on the soul; only men themselves had ehanged to a certain extent. A new senslib ility, a more affective outlook, had gradually appeared. 4l

\ Ideally, the monastie eommunity itself was thought to

a

represent a sort of antechamber of heaven in that_it 'Pa foretaste of the peace,

;,

joy and love of heaven.

.of~ered

At the

same time, the monks set a prophetie example for al'l Chris~endom

on two levels:

On a public level, they

witnesse~

.

to the reality, the primaey and the de"lectability of the life and values of the Kingdom of God. with Christ in God"

On a deeper level, 'Yhid

(Col. \3:3), they,

like the monks of the.

Roman period, continued to keep vitally alive in the Church . the sp,irit of prayer: and sacrifice.

This -contemplative

.- life., they held, helped to maintain thë'

char~,sma~ic

heritage

of the ~hurch wh~le ~laying ~n integral part in the mtstérious unfolding of the' Kingdom lOf-"food and of His Christ.

"

\

\

'l,

\ 1

--,--- , - - --

~

. .\ \

r -

- 88 -

\

The patristic outlook of Anthony, Benedict and Bernard \

and of their spiritual sons was in sharp contrast to the modern worldview.

Theirs was a theocentric,

non-dial~ctical

anh

contemplative as opposed to an anthropocentric, dialectical and operative worldview. f

To modern eyes, their tiny and

'

\

geocentric universe was the forum for a cosmic drama in which the eternaî destiny of each human being was "to be decided on the basis of his beliefs and actions in this life.

God

held the universe in being by His power and wisdom, and aIl transpired lin it happened wi~h His foreknowledge and ccording to His will.

a

h re which was

,.

obj~ctive

.-

There was a fixed order and design to man whose task was to

disc~ver

it frOgFeSSiVelY, and to conform-his intellect and will to i t. \ In the same way as "tÎ~ body was s1Wordinate to t~e .,soul,

so was the/material to the SPirÎtual order.

Ihe thealogieal

formulation of this faith held that man discovered right /

,-/

living and the fulness' of life in obedience to the teaching and guidance of Christ alfd of His Church, and in --the use of created things and the exercise of hurnan freedom in the s1rvice of the Kingdorn of God. ,

Q

.

The 'monks of the RQman period and of the Low Middle Ages,

li~e Augustine, saw history as a great poem which ~ook on a o

'c)

complete and intélligible rneaning - d~~pite the hidden signif\

\\

\ (

,

(

1 "

1

.

, , .. ,1.

.

\ 1

/

-

- 89 -

1

par~iculars

icance of many end

~f

it were known.

-

as~soon

as the beginning and

The Word of God made flesh was at

the center of) the whole great. work of the creation and sanctification of the world.

It was in re"lation ta Christ

that all that had preceded'His

cO~ing, al~ tha~

accompanied

' .

it\ and all that would fOdlow it, were to be

\

u~derstood

1

aAd

correlated. \ History was ordered and penetrated throu9h 1

and thr7pgh by this internal unit y and teleology. fore, these monks thr

pa~t

te~ded

ta pay much

~oderns,

than do most

g~eater

.

form of

t~e

Creator Spiritus. \

truth for themselves, 1 and by

attention ta

it was because they considereq

their Chri.stian and, mOl1astic sources °to

c

If, there-

r~veal'! .

the breath à'n<;i.

ln rediscovèring t.I1at living

.a

.

entering_~nto

deeper communion

with i ts grace '. they sought thereby t? better dispose thems,elves \

Il

\

for a more fruitfulorole ln the plan of the Mystery which would, in the fulness of time, see all things recapitulated

. \

in Chvist .. ··

1

,

"

je

... ~

.,

~ •

,.

i.

1 1

.

.::

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- r -

r

1

.

l

One can dlscern, during the first nine centuries of monastic history, two

distl~ct

phases in the attitudes and

policies of 'the .hierarchy -vis-~-vis ,t~e ·monks'.

\

The first

ph~se began wi'th Bishop Athanasius and ended with Pope Gregory

the Great. ~the

It was characterized by a desire on the part of

hierctrchy both to control and to protect the development

of monasticism.

The second phase began with the same Pope

Gregory and ended with Pope Eugenius III.

It was characterized

by an oscillation between an encourag'ement. of monastic solitude

,

at one moment, and then a desire for a greater monastic involvement in the general affairs of Christendorn at another. 11 •

Let us now explore each phase in turn.The mutual friendship of Bishop Athanasius and abba's Anthony and Pachomius and a shared respect for what each other represented and was trying to do prevented a repeat -

of the Montanist dis aster .

It l~d; as we saw, to the inte-

gration of monasticism into the Church and to the establishmen~ of episcopal control over the activities and practices of the

r

monks. "

..

(

(a) This chapter will look at the monastic fact in the conte~t of sorne of the pattë~ns and trends which developed in the course of Christian history ~nd which led the h~erarchy to assume a varied attitude with regard to the sigrtificance of the monastic presence, and its role, in ~he"great Church~

~~

,

- r

-

- 91 -

\

~

..

Basil of Caesarea reinforced this 'trend by p1iltting his monasteries under the direct controi of the local bishop, ,

and by having them serve, as .an integral aspect of their monastic observance, the needs of the people of the surrounding ('

region.

Similarly, Jphn Cassian, by developing Augustine's

notion of monastic self-consecration to the 'inner Kingdom )la

•

of contemplation', argued that monasticism was rootea at the very heart of the (inVisiblL) Church. The next stage came when various bishops,

including,

ironicaliy enough, eve~ Basil's successor, began to abuse

,

their authority by involving the monks in violent ecclesiastical partisan politics and in the struggle àgainst pagans and heretics.

In response, the Council of Chalcedon (A.D. 451)

ordered ,aIl bishopsJand monks to restrict themselves in the \

" future to their auly assd.cjned tasks and respdnsibilities. Canon IV reads:

.. No

one anywhere (may) build ~ found a monastery or oratory contrary to the wil"'i -of the bishop of the city ... Monks in every city and district shall be subject to the bishop, and embraGe a quiet course of life, ,and give themselves only to fasting and prayer, remaining permanently in the places 1 in which they were, set apart; and theX shall ' meddle/neitner in ecclesiastical,nor in secular affairf, nor leave their menasteries te take part in s~ch: unless, indeed, they whould at any time through urgent necessity (i.e. and for ia~ful

/

- 92 -

purposes) be appointed thereto by the bishop of the city ... But the bishop (for his part) must make the needfui provision for the monasteries. 42

11

The final stage' of this first phase can be seen in the

.

perfect realization on the part of the 'primitive Benedictines of the hopes and exp'ectations of the Council of Chaicedon.

Romàp

Thus, by the close of the upholding the

in~erent

pe~iod, Pope Gregory the Great,

beauty and the great value to the

/ 1 atlve . . . Ch urch of contemp monastlclsm, encourage d t h e mon k s

.

,

.

(.

.

.

to cultlvate'thelr monastlc conversatlo ln a propitious at_ ....,~ -

t

....

mosphere of silence and solitude.

Accordingly, in a move

designed ta put an end to what had become, in spite of the spirit (though not necessariIy the,letter) of the Chalcedonian regulations, an unwarranted intervention on the part of the bishops in the internaI affairs of the monapteries, Pope Gregory decreed:

that both the bishops rnay be content with the rights of their own churches and no more, and that the monasteries be sub~ect to no ecclesiastical conditions, or canpelled' services, or ebedience of any kind to secular authorities (and saving) only canonicai jUjiSdict~on ••. but, freed from all vexations and amioyances, . may accomplish their divine work with the utmost devotion of heart. 43 ~

e

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r

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y fi

)

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•

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r

/

-

93 -

The Basilian service orientation, therefore, represented, \

during the Roman period, an exception to.the rule of monastic solitude and enclosure.

This situQtion was not to last 10hg,

s~cial

however, for .it presupposed a degree of sta1?ility which was soqn, td, aIl

1.

.

~ntents

order

~nd'

I~

and purposes, to b'e-

lost. 1

,,Phase two began when Pope Gre90ry decided to use the

.-

training and ski Ils of the monks for what had been until 1

this time, at least in the West, strictly speaking, nonUnder his lead~rship, andl pêrh~ps to sorne exten t

c

through the influence of Cassiodorus's seholarly o

orientation, the Benedictines almost single-handedly

st~ug~led

to keep ali~e in Europe the delicate flame of civilization and learning.

(

During what have sinee

~een

ealled 'the ,

Benèdictine centuries', they undertook to perform the manx

mission~rYr ~ociaL,

agricultural,

èngineer~ng" acade~ic

apd

literary works for which they were to become 50 justifiably famous.

\.,

Indeed, the Benedietine monastery, together with the

village that usually formed around it, was to prove to be the ideal socio-economie and admi'nistrative unit for the de-

cen~raliz~d

and

Jft~n

chaotic 'conditions

Christian Europe during the Dark Ages.

~iC~ ~t

prevailed in

was to rernain the

basic unit in society until the· full emerg«:nce of the f~dal ~

/ 1

/

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..

w-

---

~

.

-

~

/

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e

)

94 -

.1

\

"

stat-e1n the eleventh c!=ntury. 'rhe

ne~t

1,

stage came when, in the ninth centur

c~ar­

. lesmagne ordered· Benedict of Aniane to bring order to a

~ow

somewhat disorJanized monastic sdene in Europe.

This

he did by enforcing a uniform observance of RSB throughout the H?ly Roman Empire.

It might be supposed

t~:~

since a

measure of milit~ry, political and social organïzation had now been restored to

E~ropean life, th~reby~emOVing much

of this great burden of-responsibility fro~ the shoulders of t

the

mon~s,

that the latter would have been in a position to

return to 'the primiiive

Beneq~ctine

ideal of solitude and

' \

enclosure.

.

!

This was'not 'the case, however, for n9~ only

~

was this monastic contribution an J

,

imp~ant

elemerit of Ca-

rolingian culture but also, 'and equally significantly, a

..

t~ansformed

new development had already

the original obser-

vance. Most of the monasteriel? throughout Western Europe had \\\ ,

1

•

for centuries now been in tbe habit of cambini~g the RSB . \ ' with the practice ?f1fOrmal pUblic worship begun in the s ixth cent ury. \

l

Thus , by tne ninth century, the two orient-

-

'ations - the one tô~ards solitude, the other towards a liturgical apostolate - hqd become confused, with

n '-.'

shifting more and more tOwards thk latter.

~he

emphasis

This development.

r~-

,----

~-

- 95 ,

culminated in the tenth centurf in the \ estab ü'shment . and

.

Its perfection of the practice of

rapid growth ofl Cluny. \

e

fbrmal public worship, together

~ith

its strong social

in-~ ,

volvement, led to a virtual abandonment on the part of the (Cluniac)' Benedictines of the cultivation of monastic solitude. "·f'--:·-""'""'''-I

~

The next stage saw Cite~ux bre'ak with Cluny over the'~'T_, . . ,

.

.,,

"I~"..... ~,

.

issue of poverty, simplicity and solitude.

This shift of

emphasis represented in part an att'empt by the mbnks to

'\

,

t'I

\

if~I'-' ';_."'~ ",f

..

(,

exerci~~ control once again ove~ theii ~wn, affqirs.

..

~.

.

)

hiérar~hy

Thek-,,~/

for its part, recognizing the spiritual vitality ,

c

of the primitive Benedictine charisrn and the advantages of •. having two mon'astic

modalitie~

within the Church, supported

/ !

the 'New Monastery' .

The 1

•

final stage of this

\

phas~

.

got underway when Pope

l1ugen1us III, a former novice of Be'rnard, began to put 1

.j --~

~/

.

-pressure on the Cistercians,to become more involved, in ,the cu;rent period of poiitibal, social and intellectual burmoil, in the general affairs of ,Christendom.

This ex-

.>

pectaJion was in large measure a natural consequence of the ambiguity in Bernard of Clairvaux's own life between an ardent-desire for solitude and an acceptance of the

,

need to assume

the~mantle,

'.'

'.

of moral leadership rt a time

"

1

,-, r

- ...

-

u

,..

- 96 '-

e.

of crisis.

The

example and prec~dent which had been

a

, by Bernard\ du~ing the 'course of

long, .truly charisma~ic

pOl>,

and astonishingly active ~nd influential career was sirnply

~g~in,

too grèat for his spirithal son to ignore. 'Once

)

though this time for a d~ferent reason, a burden of res\.

ponsibility for the hea1th and prosperity of, Christendom ,

\

had fallen upon the shoulders of the monks.

/,

This 'oscillation on the part of the hie~archy ,

\,

desi~e

an encouragement of monastic solitude and a

that t

monks share, es~ecial~y in times of crisi p , the fruits that solitude in a

l~fe

of greater social

involveme~

0) wlth

the rest of the Church reflected a 'fundamental within Christianity itself.

On the one hand, t

ere was its \

primitive, J\ \

c~arismatic

and other-worldly ideal.

On the other,

was i ts concern for the challEi!nges facing' tlte Church as a growing religious

socie~y.

If, therefore qp equilibriurn

..

between the two, orientations were to be succes~fully /mai~•

ta~ne~, ~nd

the rnonks were to be' able to

lea~

1

the

ki~~~

contemplative lifè· they sc -desired" i t was necessary that ..

f

the Church as a whole enjoy a general -stability and well-bèing, . This fact had been recognized by the rn~nks from the

.

start as a' condition ,of Christian d!scipleship. ..'

moment

Antho~y

.,"

0

knelt before Bishop

,

.;

1

From the

(1

Atha~asius

and actively

-

1

IJ

~,

)

.... 97 -

-7

,

\..

part~c~pate

d'

.

Arianism, the monastic

,~n

~

with, and to hold itself

movement began

1

1

co-responsible with the hierarchy for, the general welfare .' • 1 ~ 1 and ~evelopment of the Church. Specialized organizations

"

of religious would ar:Ï,'se after the twelfth century and would' handle the tasks now ~\~signed te the monks, but until that \' , ,~

day arrived" bath the ;ierarchy and the monks recognized thê 1'\ ' justLfication of, and compell"ing need for., occasional mon~

\

~he

astic participation-in

general affairs of Christendom. 1

"

•

\.1

There was simply no one else at the time, who could respond !

to the needs of the Church as weIl ,as could the monks. One çan also look at this development by exploring the twofold manner in

w~ich

a strongly

Augusti~ian

ecclesiology \

perceived the relationship of the Church tO.the Kingdom of ,

God.

'

,-)

\

On one level, it ident.ified the 'invisible Chur ch "

with the Kingdom of God as

~

present, albeit hidden" spiritual ~.

reality.

Monà,~tip, solitude,

from this point of view, was

,

of valu~ to the Church as a witness to the existence and goodness of what Augustine had called 'the inner Kingdom 1

of contemplation'.-

On

another level, it 'spoke of the 'visible

Church' as the celebrant and servant

\

o~

the Kingdom of God

/ -

98 -

\

in the wprld. (a)

Monastic invo

e~ent in the ,general affairs

of Christendom, from this po:in t of view, was thus justified

.

whenever the Church had need of it. . In other words, Christians either felt

themselv~

called to, cloistered monast~ries in order that ther might glorify ...His Son and His Church througl?- a holy koinonia, or, ,

they found themselves to be the recipients of those charisms which were ,necessary to enable, them to respohd fruitfully to the ~hallenges and oppo~tunities confronting the ~urch. Sometimes, as with Anthony and. especially

,

,

experienced both.

Bernard,~they

In any ca'se, i t was, held the Church,

aIl part of the providential unfo~ding of His Kingdom.

/

(a) The triumphalist attitude of sirnply identifying the 'visible Chur ch , with tne Kingdorn of God 'would not become pervasive until after the Protestant Re~ormat\on.

\

- .,.

~

,

1 SECTION

six -

THE MONASTIC DIMENSIONS OF COMMUNITY & OF LOVE

1 ,--

-. It might be best to begin this

d~Sèussion

as to how

the monastic corrununity served the function of, traïniRg the

\

,

\

'

monk in the way of grace by looking briefly at the notion of tAe,will'of God together with the peculiarly monastic interpretation of the meaning of metanoia. ,Grace signified the presence and activ;ity within the ...

soul of the inqwelling and

c

~ransforming

Roly Spirit of God.

Although it was bestowed upon a person,at baptism, it had then to be developed during phe

,

cou~se

of his life through

an ever purer obedience to the will of God."

The purpoke' of

grace, that is, the mission or the Holy Spi it was Christ

~n

the believer and so to

uli~e

..

~o

form

er more intimately

wi th, the Father in the Son through the Holy

t

t ,r •

..

G~ltimatelY

Similarly. the will of the inner liIe of the Triune ,

~Od

into which ma

,.

in Christ by grace, and the

re resented both was-admitted

, 1

~anner

in whicp he had ta livà ,\

\

(a) This chëpt~ will look at the monastic commtrlnity from

the poi~t o~ view both of its functional ch~racter as an institution orienfed t~wards the cUltivat~ori of grace, and of its charismatic character as 'an epfphany of the Christ-c~tered and Spiri t-'f,illed life.

. l

1

~:~~\I ~!e-

,.".

~_~,

l'

'\~

,

.

-

\

'Ir

-,

- 100 '-

.

1

in order to conform to the way of the Spirit and so be

\.,

transformed in and 'commune with God. ,

The inqividüal could

.

only obey the will of God by bringing his entire life under ~

""

the (iire~t contrc?l an\d guidance of the Holy Spiri~. sely, a continuous and

Conver-

purer obedience to the will of God deepened and clarified his realization of sonship in ~ver

_!

~

, /ChEist and pis sensitivity ta.. the mavement of the Holy Spirit

in the soule

Clearly, therefore, grace and the will of ~od 1

\

/ reRresented two aspects of the same Christ-life, or life of '"

~

-

,

the Kingdom of God: Ç\\ they signified Godls work in the soul \

:to make it like tfimself.

'C

Hence Jesus cruld 'say, "only he

who does the will of my heavenly Fathe'r shall ente~ \the l

,

;,

~ K~n,gdom of hea~enll (Matt. 7:21).

Paul often elaborated upon the life of the Kingdom of God and its relationship to the will of God: \

The King~om of God does not mean food and drink but righteousness and peace anô joy in the Holy Spirit ••. The Kingdo~ of God consists ••• in .. power ••• by whïch we are justified, washed and s~nctified in the name of the Lord Jesus Chr is't and in the Spirit of our God ••• and are united to'Him and become one spirit ~ith Him ••• Do not be conformed to t~is world, but be transformed by ,the renewal of your minds, ~hat you may prove what is th~-good, acceptable and perfect will of God ••• Ther~fore, continue to work"out your own salva~ion, with fear and tremblingi for God

..

. ...

..

"

.. \

'

l-

.

-,- TT

,1

1 1

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- 101 -

is at work in you" b~th to will and to work f
joyful self-giving love. ,

,

,

Christian "

mona~t;c

life lay in the personal and shared ex- .

periepce of that love, an

~xperience rnad~

the mission of the Holy Spirit.

possible through

Obedience to grace and to

the will of' God entailed, therefore, an ever greater and

# ,-

purer self-abandonment in loving faith to the , . Spirit of Divine Lovê.

l,

As William of

sl.

~ndwelling

ThierrY'put it:

The love of God, God who is love, the Holy Spirit, pours hirnself into our love and our spirit and attracts us, .to himself. Then God loves himself in us and rnakes us', our spirit and our love, one with himself. 44

..

1

Sin, on the other hand, ultimately represented a re-' ,-

jection of the will of God and of sel~-giv'ing love in favour 1

of an egotistical attachment to self-will ana ta self-

,t r,

"'-'>.

aggrandizement over othels.

~,"

i

~

l,-

,

,t

/

~

with. tha!;<'out-gging Spirit of Christ which is "the way,. the

•~

1

theology - if his! life' was to be reconciled

//,,/'

r

l

/

Chri~,tl:n

taught

t

~---,

a radical metanoia

'1as required in' ..the sinner - and aIl human beings are sinners, \ , ,

"

~ ~,

consequ~ntly,

.'

~/

\

•

f

r

truth/~nd .the life" (Jn.

14:~

///// \

,//

/

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c

_"

102 _

\

The ~onastic under'standing or metanoia was somewhat diffefent from what it 'had been'for the ~arly Chfistians. Q

,

It meant more to the monks than simply '·re.E~ntance, entrance :1

by

b~Ptism

into the new"

co~unity

of th: nEj!w Israel aJd an ,

.

acceptance of the yoke br new law of the kingdom of

--

~@d.

It now also connoted an interi>or transformation in the . . . Spirit, a transformation of consciousness, as it were, an

.

acquiring of the 'min~ of Christ' and a IJlystical 'inner :te":' (

,,'"

énactment of -y-he radical. kenosi's pr self-emptying wh,ich • \

l'

having the mind of Christ entai1ed (Cf. P~ix. 2:519). The monks believed that a profound , ,

a~cetical.

and

mystical formation was required if Christians were consciously to participate in-the communication' of the divine being by , beio~ing

"partakers of the divine nature"

(II Pet. 1:4).

They had, therefore,.\to fo11ow an interior 'way of the c'ross'. This meant that just as Jesus a1ways did the will of his

.

Father, that is, was perfect1y docile to the

guidanc~

of

,

the Holy Spirit - for which reason he was without sin had the

follo~rs

50

of Jesus to allow th,mselves ta be led

by th~ \SPirit through trials and temptation~, suffering dnd

aridity and finally to their own personal "crucifixion' or ego-death~

-

i.e~.

Each had to 'die' on a cértain level of his

bei~~

that of s'elf-centeredness - in order to consummate

\

.. p

\:

. .. Il -

1

103 -

that transformation in the Spirit which had been begun at

A

baptisme

Only in this way would he be led to a personal

'rebirth'

on a higher and more spiritual 16:!vel .... i.e", that ft

of Chd. st-centeredness - and so be able to say with Paul, "1 have been crucified with Christ; live~

but Christ who lives in me"

it is no longer l who

(Gal.

*'"

2:20).

As Merton observeq: './-

/

.

In aIl the different (ear ly monastic) traditions Greekl coptic, Syriac, Palestinian - there was common agreement that in the desert the monk renounces his own i llusory ego- self, "dies" to hlS worldly and empirical self in order to surrender ~ompletely to the transcendent reality which, though described in various terms, is always best expressed in the simple Biblical express-i.on "the will of God". In his surrender of himself and of his own will, his "death" to his wO~ldly identity, the mor'lk is renewed in the image 'and likeness of God and b€comes like a mirror filled with the divine light.45 (a)

1

,

It is clear th~t the monastic understanding of rnetanoia; like th~ histor ical shift towards asceticism i tself,

re-

\>j

presentèd a response to the now lower standards of disciple-· ship q,nd witness charaGteristic of the rank and file of the

(a)

Likewise, Bernard of Clairvaux saw the myth of original sin as referring to a fundamental ign~rance in man of his true Christ-centered identity and correlatively false and ego-centerfid relationship to his fellow creatures.

a

c

.

1

/

"T

t

/

-

great Church.

104 -

Indeed, this trend was art iculated in the

1

very deve10pment of religious language itself. the sixth century,

Thus, by

if not earlier, the strong religious

impulse to ~ stricter life, that is, to the/ monastic life, came to represent, of conversion '.

in "the idiom of the time,

1

the grace

Siffiilar ly, the monk of the Middle Ages

was called 'a religious

1

in contradistinction to the ordinary

Christ1.an because the monastic

l~fe

was seen as more per-

0

fectly conformin
a

(monastic) metanoia, however," was

As Pope Gregory confessed, "it is a less

thing to renounce what one has: but i t

is an exceedingly

difficult thing to renounce what one iS". 46

Hence the vital

importance attributed 'by the monks to poverty, obedience and conversio morum not as' ends in themselves, but rather' as a

,

means by which to learn in

, r

the school of the Lord' s service

1 ,

\

to deny themselves, take up the ir cross and follow Jesus. t;3enedict spoke in the prologue to his Rule of the "

necessity of strict discipline in order to p):'omote the amendment of evil habit and the preservation of charity.

Similarly,

Adam of Perseigne, an earlyjCistercian, spoke of the monastic ,

formation as a period of cure and convalescence during which

" Î

1

\

. i

• r

~---

-

-,

-

....

/

105 -

tirne the; young monk repudiated the way of the world in

,

order to learn the way of the Spirit, that is, to learn to live by self-giving love. 47

If thère w~s suffering in

r

such self-denial, it was best to think of it, said Isaac of Stella, another early Cistercian,

"a hel! of mercy

and not of wrath ".48 Everything in the monast,ic life fasting,

self-mortification, meditative

silence, soli tu?-e, reading,~liturgical

\ worship,

,

the 'vows', the

f~ictions

of community life, even

the experience of laneliness and unfulfifment of this

'education of the new man',

~

~part

And always the intention

was to strip the monk of self-will and to encourage a greater sensitivity and docility to the spirit of prayer and sacrifice, in a word, to the, will. of God.

Obedience ta the spiritual

master and/or abbot, t<:J the Rule· and to the common will of the community was in this regard an essential element in the monk's formation.

ol

It was designed to mediate the will

God to him until such time as he was spiritually maturé

enough to be able ta

disce~n

it in his heakt.

of course, would continue but now it would be,

His obedience,

embr~cea

more "

freely and on a higher level. 1

\

Not surprisingly, in view'of the differences in the religious Zeitqeist and the 'eschatological

perspec~ive'

J

--'\~--r"""""'---'W"--,------- --~-~------

- 106 -

1

characteristic of each rnonastic period, there was a corresponding difference of emphasis in the respective Coptic, primitive Benedict~ne -

and Cistercian approaches to asceticism. 1 •

The Coptic monks placed great stress upon the struggle against the demons.

Athanasius's tife Of Anthony reads in

, this regard like a chronicle of war in which the hero, Anthony,

successfully beats off th)

repeatéd,~ often viol~nt ,

and always.cunning assaults of the evil spirits.

Th~s, if

the 1 monk wishes to grow in Christ, taught Coptic rnonasticfsm, " he had first to recognize, with the author of Ephesians, the insidious nature of these hosts of spiritual W(;9kedness and

c

then to deal with,thern accordingly, that ~s, with the·shield of faith and with aIl prayer and supplication (6:12-18). The most important fact for the monk to bear in rnind

!

.

at aIl times 'tüas that Jesus, the crucified and risen (Lord, ,~

had already utterly defeated Satan

l

the evil. Prince of - - -

this world, and would soon consummate that victory through his return and the full establishment of the Kingdom of God. Consequently, the temptations or threats with which the devil sought to induce the monk to abandon his way of life .were of no avail against the 0!1e who persevered in hi.s faith and discipline.

..

The monk had only to combat the demons of passion, ";-'.

-~--,

---

- 107 -

1

~

pride, despair, anger,

jealousy, greed, sloth, dissipation

etc _ by abandoning himself to the will of God in abstinence., r

•

fasting, self-mortification, humility, pat lent vigils, sacred reading, prayer and so on.

~ndurance,_

The struggle,

to be sure, was long and difficult and sorne would be lost, but victory was assured for those who gave themselves totally ta Jesus and

allow~d

him to overcomM the demons with his

truth, and through his triurnphant power. (

)

Benedict also saw the monastic life in terms of the c,oming Judgement and t;.p.etefore as a means by which to shun the falsehoods, vainglory and illusqry pleasures af 'the

c

warid

1 :

.

For the days of our life are lengthened 3nd a respite allowed us for this very reason, that we , may amend our evil ways •.• We have heard what is the dllty of him who would do/ell (in the tab.,ernacle of the L~rd):llit remairis for us to fulfil this dut Y • Theref(\>re our hearts and bodies must be . made r~ady to fight under the holy obedience of his cornmands; and let us ask God that he De pleased, where our nature ~s powerlers, ta give us the he lp Qf his grace. And if we wGlUld escape the pains of he Il and reach eternal life, then mus~ ~e - while there is stil~me, while ~e are in this body: and can t~l ,thJse things by the light of: this life - hasten to do now what may profit 'Us :for etérnity ~ (a) \

..

C

(a) ~SB

"'1'

..

P;o~. II:

/

/-

.

/

!

- 108 ~

Bened~ne asceticism,'ho~evef,owas more moderate

than that of the Copes.

While advocating a s'trict d'iscl.pline

for aIl, it made allowance for weaker souls and for difficult circumstances and simply encouraged the

~onks

to give

priority to the demands of love and to do the best they could. Furthermore, growth in Christ was now seen as a more general ,

function of a faithful and loving observance of the commupal

/

and liturgi~al life of the mona~tic community itself.

Their

•

abandonment to-the will of God, therefore, was thought to be commensurate with their self-surrender ~o~he Spirit ~hich had inspired the Sacred Scriptures, which suffused the natural

1

world they were to cultivate, which sang through the

li~u~gy

in praise of the Father and which moved them to love and serve God and each othér. Although the early Cistercians mode lIed themselves after the primitive Benedictines, the accent-with regard te their search for God was, as a result of their

par~icular

L

'eschacl

. tologidü perspective', more upon the, persona'l and' intedtor \

aspects of the life.

1 ·

Consequently, while both monastic groups

sought to respond to the calI of Christ and to gr~w in ~ve . by worshipping God in holy living and by serving each other ~

~

\

and bearing each other's burdens, the Cistercians seem to have had a more psychological view of this prlcess.

1hey \

:

" / 109

.'

q

were aware of it, in other

words~

as an un\olding of the

inner man and as an expression of rnion with God. l

r

Thus , .

....

william of St'. Thierry, the\ former Benedictine abbot who

,

became a Cistercian, observed:

•

Just as God loves himself in us and we have 1 learned ,to love in ourselves-only God, 50 we begin to lOVe our neighbour as ourselves. For in our neighbour we love God. 49 1

•

Especially here, therefore, was obedience to the will of God seen in the monk s· advrnce in contemp,lative prayer. 1

De~pi te these differences of emphasis, however,' , aIl' of

a

the monks were in agreement with regard to the basic point

-

.'

that the monastic regimen represented a course of instruction in the life of grace.

It is for this reason that ORe rnay

speak. . of, the functional character

o'~

a monastic community.

Let us now turn to the charismatfc character Of\ the . mOlastic corrununity as an epiphany of the Christ-cen.tered Spir~t-filled

and~

life.

If the monastic life served in and of, itself to

trai~

the monk in the way of grace, it was because it was so oriented as to conform to, and tAus in a sense

tiF

incarnate,

ck ~east so far as human beings were able i~ this world~ th:!

•

life of the Kingdom of ·God.

/ '

Thomas Merton has perhaps expressed 1

\

......,....,'r----.. .

...

r-~---· '.--·---~- -~-~-----

---

7

..: 110

i t best in the following observation: \

The monk ~s not so much one whu denies himself and practises virtue in arder to find God, but ·one.who is more or less fervent in his monastic cOhversatio in proportion as he realizes that he has found God in it. It is aH awakening to the sound of God's voice ca1ling (him) to the path of life, to the way of humility and obedience, not merely because they ,are ascetic exercises, but because they àre char~cteristic . of the life of sonship and discipleship which the monk lives in the school of the Lord's service. 50 (

Ideally, Christian contemplative'monasticipm offered a life of frèedom, both freedorn from something and for something. It offered freedom fram much of what prevented man from

enjoy~ng

life as hi was meant to.~~ when ~e was awa~e

of his own and aIl creatures' , 'sonship '~n Chriat..'.

Life' s

vicissitudes and harsh'realities refuained ~-and would continue until the consurnrnation of the, Kingdorn of God - but by abandoning himselJ totaJly to the Holy Spirit, the monk could 1\J

thereby find his proper place, and thus his peace and joy, ~

in Christ: (Ma t t .

'~hose

Il : 28- 3 0) •

yoke is 1asy and whose burden is ,

lig~t"

1

\ l

,J.

It was to be a life, therefore, of freedom from the r,i "

r.

~,

~

t

,r,

1

C

cares and burdens of the 'worldly' man:

freedom from feari

\-

t

-

r

-~

\-

~

t 1

.,

III -

1

~ell,

fear of death, of

~Freedom

of God's or man's displeasure.

from spiritual ignorance of one's own inmost truth

and identity as a bdloved child of GOd.

Freedom fram interior

c

disunity and disharmony and· the corresponding states of confusion, agitation, misery and restlessness.

And finally,.

/

freedom from the illusion that this or that created thiAg or transitory phenomenon could fulfil man as a creature and

50

~ith ~he

provide him

peace, happiness and meaning

•

he sought.

The mature monk was thus free to love and praise God in a cons~crated life of service and ~O~Ship.

1

Perhaps the

outstanding characteristic of such a life was its spirit of simplicity, that is, its rejection of aIl that'appeared to ,

the monks to be superfluous or artificial.

Their life was

in this -regard nothing if not singlé-Finded.

~

·The only, thing

that mattered was that in aIl of their activities throughout the day they might brethren in God. \

g~ow

.

in the love of God and of their

Indeed,

advan~e

in the monastic vocation

-was nothing else than the deepening of love, not to be found in the accumulation of more and more supposedly pious dbservances, but in an ever purer, ever\mo e loving practiGe of

1

(il.

1 .

•

.

,

o

112 .

\

one's monastic observances. (a) , Bernard s\ rh'iipsody on the all- sufficiency of love 1

captured weIl the spirit of the Christian contemplative monastic life:

\.

Love seeks no justification outside itself. Love i~ sufficient to·itself, is pleasing to itself and for its own sake. Love is its own merit and. its own reward. Love seeks no cause , outside itself qnd no results other than itself. ~e fruit of love is love. Love is all-sUfficient because it cornes from God as its source and returns to Him as 'its end, for God Himself is Love. 5l

f

-' Having looked at the Copttc, primitive Benedictine and early Cistercian approaches to the cultivation of tJe life of grace, we can now follow up that

analys~S-b~seeing

how

their respective ascetical and mystical formations bore fr~it

in the correlative

~~Y.

cnar~smatic

experience of each

. '

.

. \ A good way \ of highlighting the Coptic expressi0I?- of the \

fulnes$ of the Christ-life might be by reviewing Anthony's description of the essential

differen~es

between the experience

. of the presence of good spirits and pf evil spirits.

\

\'

(a)

the very utensils and propert~ ?f the monastery to be vi~~ed and used, according to' RSB, as thougb e the sacred vessels of the altar (c.3l).

\

\

!

-

i

~

113 -

~-

\

The Vl.Sl.on of the hbly ones is not frauÇJht-=--with distraction ••. but i t cornes so quietly and 9èn-t~y that irnmediately joy, gladness and c9urage arise in the sou» For the Lord w~o is our joy is,with. them, and the power of God the Father. And the thoughts of the soul remain unruffled and undisturbed, so that it, enli~h~ened as it were with rays, beholds by itself those who appear r For the love of ~hat is divine and of the' things to come possesses it, and willingly it ~ould be wholly.joined with ühe~ if i t could depart along with them ••. ~ . But the inroad and the display O"f- .the evil spirits is fraught with confusion, with sin, witn sounds and cryj.ngs such as the disturbance of boer ish !' youths or robbers would occasion. From which arise fear in the heart, ,tumult and confusion of thought~ dejection, hatred towards them ~ho live.a life of discipline, indifference, grief, remembrance of kinsfolk and fear of death, and finally desire of evil things, disregard of virtue and unsettled habits. (a)

.

'\

o

Such discernment of spirits ~nd the blessings occasioned by the vision of the divine reality, in proportion as they, 'were genuine, always humbled the monk and ied him to rejoice

\

not in himself or in his' own, powers; but in the Lord and

\

.

in his power and mercy, and in the unspeakable goodness and . :'l

beauty of the things to come.

,.'<

Anthony could therefore say

of the life of the mature monk:

Let us net be sorrowful qS though we were perishing; but rather let us be courageous and

c

1 (a) ~

c's 35-6.

1

\-r •

1

114 , ,

..

rejoice always, believing thài we are safe. Let us considèr i'n our soul that, the Lord is - wi th us, who put ~the ev i l spiri ts to f lig1:lt and broke their power' ••. 'For when they come c they a,pproach us in a form correspondinq to the state in which they discover us 1 and adapt their ,delusions to the condition of mindoin which they find us ••• (Therefore) if they see us rejoicing in the Lord (i.e. as we ~hould be doing) contemplating the bliss of the future, mindful of the Lord, deeming aIl things in His hand ••. they arê discomfited and turn backwards ••. (So) let us ever,ponder over the things of theoLord, and let the soul ever rejoice in hope. (a) • \

,-

1

D

The primitive Benedictine modality of the Christ-life,

~ts cÎistinctive' charism, so to s'peak, was reflected in the

a

,

harmony, the peace and joy and, and worship of the holy of God.

If the

exorcism of

cOP~

demor~

above plI, the shared love

k~inonia Q~

the

f;ith~UI' ~ervants

paid particular attention to the

as a\sign of the presence of the'Kingdom

of Ch·rist, the Benedictines tended t.o uphold the table-fellow-

.

ship of the redeemed, its celebration of the forgiveness of

sins and of the gift of eternal

,

and of responsive love.

Il

lif~

in a

c~mmunîon of'rn~~cy

Bebold" , exclaims RSB:

1

.

~ln his loving mercy the Lord showeth us th6t' way

1

e.

of life. Let us, therefore, gird our loins with faith and the obs;rvance of good works, and ~OllOW­ ing the \guida~ce of the Gospel walk j.n his paths,

(a)~ c.42. '.

\

-

115 i

0

1

t

/

/

\

so thaJ we may merit to see hlm who 'has' èalled us unto his Kingdom .•• , JUst as'there is an evil zeal of bitterness _ 'which separates from God and leads to hell, so there is a goo~ zeal which separates from evil and leads to God and life' everlasting.. Let" monks, therefore, exercise this ~~al with the most fervent love ••• Let 'them bear with the greatest patience one another's infirmities, wheth~r of,body or-character. Let them vie in paying obedience to onê another. Let none follow what seems good for himself, but rather what is good for another. 'Let them practise fraternal charity with a pure love. Let th~ fear God ••• Let them prefer nothing whatever' to Christ. And may he bring us aIl alike to -ù life e~erlasting.(a)

The holiness of the

Benedi~tinesl

therefdre, was not

intended ta' be seen in great works and achievernents but _ f rather in the quality of their lives, that is, in the peace~

1

f~l

...

and loving

1

rnann~r

\

i~

1

which they quietly'and

unob~rusivêly

s~rved God an'd each other in theJ.r daily ,living and in the

liturgical praise of the new covenant of the Kingdom of Christ • . . l

The earl; Cistercian charism. ad:;lui'i:-ed its

'

distin~tive

character from the contemplative ernphasis given to it by

,ç

.., ~JI

Bern~rd.

Xhus, while' the

cisterc,~an m~nastery

was also to

~ " be a holy koirionia - indeed, A~lred of Rievàulx, a di;tingui~hed early Cistercian abbot, wrote a celebrated book on friendship • J

..

1

•

~

a) Prologue

.,. . c. 72 •

0, F

"

"

"

t

the faithful observafice of such a life came to~ be especially

.

valued for its ability to promote a union with Christ, the Word of

God~

.

mystica~

.

experience of

Bernard's most famous

book, ,On The Song dJf Songs, continuously makes a calI to "Christians to come aqd exper~ence for themselves the' un-

,

rivalled excellenêe of this unioh df lover and beloved:

\

l, •1

t

r L

~ l'

1 f

.. Q

'

~.

Q

.,

There is (à) song which, by it~ unique dignity .and sweet!1ess, excels~ .•• any qthers there .might 'i be '," ,(This is) the Song of Songs. It stands at a point where aIl others culminate. Only ,the touch of the Spirit can inspire a song liRe' ithis, and only personal experience can unfold its meaning. Let those whô are verse~ in the ~ystery revel in ci.ti let,oeil!" others burn with des~re rather to attain to this experienc~ than simply to learn about it. ' \, . For itois not ~ melody that resounâs abroad but the very music of the heart, not a trilling on bhe li~s but an inward pulsing of delight, a 'ha:r:mony not. of voices but of wills. It ïs a SOrlig you will not. hear in the streets, these notes do not sound where crowds assemblei only the . singer hears ~t and the one to whom he sings the' lo~er and ~he beloved. It is pre-eminently a marr~age song telling of chaste souls in 10ving embrace, of their ~ ills in sweet concord, bf" the mutual exchange of ~he heart's affections. . The novices, the immature, -those but recently convelîted from a worldly life/'do not normally sing thi$ song or hear it sung. Only the rind disciplined by persever.ing s~udy, only the man whose efferts have borne fruit under God's inspiration, the man whose.years, ,as it were, make ~ him ripe for marriage "'\- years measured out not • 1 in time but in merits - only he is truly prepared' . for 'nuptial union with the divine p~rtner.52

.

1e

--

,

.

~\ '.'

,

,- r

.,

• f'

,. -

117 -

In concluslon, the Jonastic community, whether it be quasi-eremitical or cenobltic, was designed to be a sanctuary where aIl the monks' could help each other to serve the Truth ~ that wa~ above aIl of them and yet in aIl of them as the

.•

Source and Ground of life.

This was what i t was aIl about -

to be drawn eyer more deeply into the life and festivity _l

of the Kingdorn of God.

.'

The monastic community, therefore,

,

was an ?piphany of the Chrlst-centered and Spirit-filled

o

.. -

,

life in the measure ln which the life of the monks gave glory to the trut~ of Christ and to the Spirit of Divine Love.

1 .. . ....

..

.. 1

'-1 1

1

- II

(a)

God desired that aIl hurnan beings be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.

The Good News spoke, above

aIl, of the compassionôte mercy and

stead~pst

lpve of God

for man, and of how there was great JOy in heaven when even one'person was saved.

It told of how God's self-revelation

in Christ represented a manifestation not so much of power and might as of

powerl~sness,

illty,' or again, not

50

gentleness and even vulnerab-

much of royalty as of service.

Indeed,

the contrast between man's understanding and exercise of greatness, majesty and power and the actual nature of God's gent le and loving relationship to His creatures was so great 1

that Paul could only exclaim in wonderment:

God chose whatc is foolish in the world to shame the wise ••• what is o/eak ••• to shame the strong Christ crucified .• : a sturnbling block to Jews , and folly to Gentiles ... (for) no. eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived wha[ God has prepared for those who love him ( l Cor. l : 27, 23; 2: 9) .

Paul never ceased from the day of his spiritual awakening 1

(a) This chapter., will offer a few observations on suffering love as an ~xpress~on of the tension in the Christian (roonastic) life between the celebration of the triurnph of Christ and the presence in the world of the Kingdom of God on the one hand, and the yearning for the consummation of that Kingdom and the salvation of aIl human beings on the other. 1 .

. ,.

------,

:>[1

- 119 -

to the day of his death to tell 'of this inexhaustible love of God for man.

Be told of'how God forgave man not as One

Whose divine law had been broken, but rather as One Who had been grieved and wounded in spirit by the repeated betrayal of His love and yet Who still loved man without measure. For God welcomed not as One Who condescended, but rath'er !

/

1

as One/Who experienced great JOY in receiving even a

lit~le

from thos~ who ~qUld have giyen Him more. If, however, there was great JOY in heaven when even a single indlvidual was saved, so too

§

~as

there sadness when

people rebuked God and those whom God had sent to them.

1

How

po~gnant

was Jesus'

lamentation at the hard-heartedness

of men:

o Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How o~ten would l have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings ~ and you" would not! (Lk. 13:34)

, ~nd how stirri~g his sorrow and compassion for their

.

spiritual blindness:

..( ~

Father, forgive them: for they know not what they do (Lk. 23: 34) •

~

f t

~

i

,"

~ i

For, as Paul put i t in, his inimitable hymn to love:'

C

"

t- /

l

,

i.

.,

---

-

>

120 -

,,"

Love is patient and kind; love is not jeal-ous or boastful; i t lis not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own waYi it is not ~pritable or resentfuli it does not rejoioe at wrong but rejoices in the right. Love bears aIl things, believes aIl things, hdPes aIl things, endures aIl things (1 Cor. 13:4-7).

Anthony, Benedict, Bernard and aIl of the mature Christian monks of the Roman period and of the Low Middle Ages marvelled at the boundless love and me/~y of God.

It bespoke for them

the true climate withtn which the Christian and, therefore, the monastic life was to be led and celebrated. (Few monks liked to dwell on or to talk about their experience of suffering; it could too easily encourage an

1

unhealthy and exaggerated self-scrutiny and even, ultimately, "

â

rat~er

morbid form

o~

self-indulgence.

Nonetheless, it

was a.real element in the monastic life and, in a deep and mysterious way, commensurate with the monk'$ growth in Christ, tha,t is, with the forming of Christ in him.

One

could list the spheres of human existence in which he, like everyone else, had to suffer:

the physical (weakness, disease

and death)i the intellectual (obscurity of understanding, the experience of failure); the soéial (the fragility and ,frictions 1 J

of human inter-relations); and the moral (the experience of h i ) own sinfulness).

However, it would be more accurate to

l

-

t

121 -

1

say that the root of his suffering lay in the tension between o~

hlS experience

human finitude and imperfection, and his

hope for the full consurnrnation of the Kingdom of God and the recapitulation of aIl things in Christ. It was not only that the monk was impatient, although \

it had been saidl that "it is far oetter to depart and to be with Christ", (Phil. 1:23).

It was, rather, that as he

matured in Christ, the monk came to experience more deeply and more personally the sufferings of Christ Himself, the!

-

Sacred Heart at the hea~t of a creation that groaned in travail, awaiting in hope its redemption from bondage to

1

sin and death and the glorious liberty of the children of Gad (Cf. Acts 17:24-8; Rom. 8:18-24).

This eschatological \

element was the outstanding feature of aIl Christian (mon-

Il

t

astic) prayer, and it tempered the monks' celebration of the triumph of Christ over sin and death and the presence /

in the world of the Kingdom of God.

As abba Isaac told

Cassian, "there is a weeping caused, not by self-knowledge, \

but by an awareness" of others' sins and their lack of re\.

pentance.,,52

It might be fitting.

theref~

to conclude -

this stutly with the thoughts of abba Moses on Christian 1

(and hence, monastic) contemplation:

---.,....-

................

.........

~~

..-.~---

~---~-

----

-

1

122 -

We know Him fn worshipping His very being wh~~h we cannot fathom, the vision which is yet hidden,' though it is promised, and for which we may hope. We ~now Him in the majesty of His creation, in regarding His justice, in apprehending the help we receive' for our daily. lives. We contemplate~Him when we see what He has wrought with His saints in every generation: when we feel awe at th~ mighty power wh~h rules creation, ~e unmeasurable knowledge of His eye which see into the secrets of every h~art ... When w ;emember His mercy unimaginable - se,ing countless sins committed every moment and ~t bearing them with inexhaustible longsufferingi when we contemplate that He has called us by reason of no merit which He found in us but simply of His free grace •.• how He is working to overcome the enemy in us, simply for the pleasure of His goodness, and is rewarding us with ever~asting blessednessi and finally, how for our salVation He was inc~rnate and made man, ind has spread His wonderful\ mysteries\among aIl nations~54 _ \

,

,

/

/

•

/

NOTES

(1)

l,am indebted here to Norman Perrin' s discussi.on of the term "Kingdom of God" in his book: The Kingdom Of God In The Teaching Of Jesus (London: S.C.M. Press, 1963).

(2),

The Spirituality Of The New Testament And' The Fathers (London: Desc1ée, 1963)", pp. 30(6-7. Cf. Eliz~beth Mason: Active Li~e And Contemplative Life; A Studv Ot The Concepts From Plato TO The Present (Milwaukee: Marquette uniyersity Press, 1961), esp. pp. 3445, 59-77.

.

(4)

Cf. Wil1iston Wa1ker: A Historv Of The Christian Churdh, Third Ed. (New York: Charles Scribner & S'ons, 1970), pp. 94-5. Owen Chadwick: Western Asceticism (London: S.C.M. Press, 1958), pp. 13-16-.

(5 )

O~.

(6)

Chadwick, pp. 15-16.

Cit. pp. 94-5 (order rearranged).

1

\

.-

....

1

r'

•

(7)

Maxwell Staniforth (transI.): Early Christiarl Writings ~(London: pengui~Books, 1968), pp. 105-6.

(8)

Op.

(9)

Moriasticism: ~Its Ideals And'History (Londdn: & Norgate, 19l8),.p. 28.

Cit~

pp.'55-6. Williams

(10)

Chad~ick,

(lI)

Op. Cit. p. 73.

( 12)

Cf. Owen Chadwick: John cassiah, Second Ed. (London: Cambridge University Press, 1968), pp~ 82-90.

(13)

Thomas Merton (transI.): The Wisdom Of The Desert (New York: New Directions, 1960), p. 29.

( 1;4)

Chadwick~,\ .John Cassian, p. 60.

.

p. 13.

'

......

\-r

1 (17)

cf.

(18)

Op. Cit. pp. 16, 31, 45.

(19 )

"Selected Works And Letters Of Athanasius" in Nicene' And Post-Nicene Fathers (Sebond Series) Vol. IV, Letter XLVI~I (Michigan: Eerdmans, 1975), p. 557.

(20)

The Monastic Order In Enq]and, Vol. l (Cambridge: bridge University Press,' V940), p. 14.

( 21)

The Benedictines, Abridged version; Robert Brown, ed. (St. Leo, F1orida: Abbey Press; 1962), p. 5.

\\

,-,

Owen Chadwick:

John Cassian, pp. 22-30, 82-3.

(22) ,Benedictine Monachism, Second Ed. Green & Co., 1924), pp. 51-7.

(London:

Ca~

Longmans,

(23)

Saint Benedict (New York:

(24)

The Benedictines, p. 41.

(25)

contemplative prayer (New York: 29-31.

(26)

"The Seven Ecumenical Counci1s" in Nicene And Post-Nicene Fathers (Second Series) Vol. XIV (Michigan: Eerdmans, 1975), pp. 383-4). 1

( 27)

Cf. Louis Lekai: The White Monks (Wisconsin: Fathers Publications, 1953), pp. 262-5.

-i"

v

Doub1eday, 1958), pp. 80-4.

,.

DOub1eday, 1971), pp.

Cistercian

\

Ib1d. pp.

( 29)

Bruno Scott James (trans1.)\ The Letters Of Bernard Of Clairvaux (London: Hodder, & Stoughtoni 19,55), pp. 220-1.

\-

(30)

\

~65-6.

(28)

./ \

The works Of St. Bernard, Vol. l (Cistercian Fathers Series)I: Michael Casey & Conrad Greenia, transl's.) (Mass.: Cistercian Publications, 1970), p. 92.

1 l

'

-

125 -

t (31)

Dr. Ea1es (trans1.): Letters Of St. Bernard (London: John Hodges, 1904) ,p. 199. The Works

St. BEitrnard, Vol. l, pp. 148-50.

O~

Il

/

\

rb id . pp. 144- 5 • (34)

Sermons Of St. Bernard On Àdvent And Christmas (A nun of St. Mary's Convent, England, trans1.) (London: R. & T. Washbourne, 1999), pp. 106-8.

(35)

lb id.

(36)

The Works Of St. Bernard, Vol. l, pp. 48, 60-1.

(37)

"The Intention, Of The Founders Of The Cisterc ian arder" in The Cistercian Spirit (Sh.annon, Ire1and: Irish University ~ress, 1970), pp. 103~4.

(38)

L. Lekai, pp.

(39 )

The Cistercian Spirit, p. 269.

\-

/

(

(40)

p:

151.

r1.::--2.

,.1

Cf. Herbert Workman: The Evo.1ution Of The Monastic Ideal . (Boston: Beacon Press, 1962), p. 22.

(41)

the Mystica1 Theology Of St. Bernard (London: Wa~d, 1955), p. 61. \ \

(42)

The Se~en Ecumenical'Councils, p. 270. / ~ "Se1ected Epist1es" in Nicene And Post-Nicene Fathers . (Second Series, Vol. XII, Letter XLI) (Michigan: Eerd~ mans, 1975), pp. 112-13.

....

(43 )

-

(44/ The Way Of Love' page nurnbers. (45)

Sheed &

\

(~~erCian

Publicatioris, 1977), no

Contemp1atiin In A Wor1d Of Action (New York: 1973)" pp. 86-7. ~-

Doub1eday, .

\ 1

(46)

Butler, p. 50.

.. f'

. - 126 -

.1

.

(48)

Cf. Thomas Merton: The Asian Journal (New York: . day, 1973) , p. 33'3. ", ~rton: _ Contemplative Prayer, p. 102.

(49)

The

(50)

Mystics And Zen Masters " (New York: pp. 155-6.

(47)

~ay

Do'll.ble-

Of Love. Delta Books, 1967) ,

,

(51) " Cf. Thomas Merton: Cisterciah Life (St. Joseph's Abbey, Mass.: postulants guide), p. 9. (52)

On The Song Of Songs (Kilian Walsh, transI.) (Spenée~1 Mass.: Cistercian Pub}ications, 1971), pp. 6~7.

(53)

Owen Chadwick:

(54)

Ibid.\ pp. 206-7.

Western A;cet.a:êLsrn;~ p. 228.

\

1

"

)

'

,

, i,

,

~ 1

1 1

\

'1

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