Back

3

The Word

of God

  

St. Benedict knew the Scriptures thoroughly. Copious refer­ences with implicit and explicit citations demonstrate his familiarity with God’s word. There is no doubt that he himself lent it the atten­tive hearing that he wants in his disciples: “Listen, my son” (R Prol), or that he “inclined the ear of his heart” to it. He tried to make this hearing easier for his followers; there are several indications to this effect. During the readings in the Office, which were mostly from the inspired books recognized as such by the Church (books of divine authority), the community assumed a more comfortable position: they sat, whereas for the psalms they stood. In the refectory, where readings left unfinished in Choir were continued, “let absolute silence be kept, so that no whispering may be heard nor any voice except the reader’s” (R 38).

Not everyone was reader. Chosen were those with the ability to be heard and to profit the listeners: “The brethren are not to read in order, but only those who edify their hearers” (R 38).

The brethren had many occasions to read or hear the Scrip­tures. The night Office included long readings, from three to twelve, depending on the day or season. At table they again heard it, and for Compline they came together to listen to some four or five manuscript pages. Frequently between the night and morning Office time was spent on the Scriptures, with memorization of long passages that would be recalled and dwelled upon during work. In addition, there were the hours devoted to lectio divina, that medita­tive reading of which Scripture was the major part, together with commentaries by the holy Fathers. Thus, by will of the lawgiver and abbot Benedict, who was only following a long monastic tradition, the Bible is the pre-eminent book of the Benedictine, the only one that is truly studied for its own sake.

 

The Bible in the Rule

St. Benedict does not quote every book of the Bible. Special recognition is given to the psalms, which he knew by heart and so apportioned to the Office that all of them would be said in the course of every week. Certain ones, moreover, were to recur daily.

The sapiential books afforded him a wealth of short didactic sentences, easily remembered, that found a natural place in a Rule whose tone is reminiscent of biblical wisdom literature: “Receive willingly and carry out effectively your loving father’s advice” (R Prol). Sirach and Proverbs are also often cited.

Since Benedict’s purpose was to outline a way to contemplative prayer through practices of the spiritual combat that are presup­posed (the ascesis), he looks principally to the Gospel of St. Matthew for his moral teaching. He also draws upon the moral portions of St. Paul’s epistles, rather than the strictly doctrinal content.

In an effort to lead his disciples to conversion and to encourage them and support their pursuit of the virtuous life, Benedict gives the example of a variety of biblical figures: Jacob, Samuel, Daniel, the high priest Heli, St. Paul, Ananias and Sapphira. He chose per­sons who had or had not practiced what the Scriptures call “fear of the Lord,” an interior attitude including attention to God, rever­ence, and humility inspired by love. Sometimes monastic observ­ances are reinforced by scriptural allusions or formal citations. Seldom does he fail to provide biblical ground and justification for whatever he proposes.

       The meaning he gives to certain passages of the Bible might not be that of the modern exegete. But Benedict does not pose as an exe­gete; his intention was to give scriptural dress to his own thought and scriptural footing to the monastic life he and his followers were leading. He chose passages that seemed most apt and skillfully wove them into the context. He may make a simple accommodation of a text or adopt an allegorical interpretation of the sort that others before him had used as a theme for the spiritual life (e.g., Jacob’s ladder and the degrees of humility). But the basic reason for what­ever liberty he takes was to make understandable to the disciples of his time what God was saying to them.

 

God Calling: Here and Now

For Benedict the Bible was not simply a book of reference or an object of study. What he sought and found there was a message of the present, a call heard here and now.

In this respect the ancient monks and nuns had something of an advantage: to them the Bible was a book heard rather than read. Monasteries and convents had each a very limited number of works. Seldom would one find several copies of the Bible, except for certain parts like the Psalter and the Gospels. It was mostly through public reading (through the ear) that God’s message gained entrance to the soul, with the character of a living and direct call. When, in addi­tion, followers of Benedict read privately, they did more than run their eyes over the page; they literally read it to themselves in muted voice yet loud enough to hear themselves read the word of God much as one reads a poem for full effect. Among the instruments of good works Benedict places “to listen willingly to holy reading” (R 4). Elsewhere he speaks of the divine voice and the divine discourse (eloquium) .

Scripture consequently assumed the actuality of a message spoken this day to this disciple. It had the impact of a book just off the press.  Materially it was in the position of a work of music that ex­ists anew in a manner utterly unique each time it is performed.

Reading technique, however, is not enough to explain the transforming presence and power of God’s word. God, who is eter­nally and inwardly present to every action of his temporal creature, is singularly present whenever Scripture is proclaimed. The Holy Spirit, received in baptism, indwells the soul, prepares it for God’s seed, and works beforehand to open the ears of the heart to his word. The “cry” of Scripture (R 7) is perceived as the voice, the call of God. The call is heard, and the soul embraces it as a personal message with its living demands addressed to it individually. The Lord was not satisfied to speak only in the past; today he still lifts his voice. His word is not a static reality, lying inert between the covers of a book. It is what it is called, a word, that is to say, the manifesta­tion of a living person whom one recognizes by the tone of voice. Before it even grasps the content of the message, the heart is touched and drawn to the beloved.

“Let us open our eyes to the deifying light, let us hear with at­tentive ears the warning which the divine voice cries daily to us, ‘To­day if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts’ (Ps 94:8). And again, ‘He who has ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches’ (Rev 2:7)” (R Prol).

“The Lord, seeking his laborer in the multitude to whom he thus cries out, says again, ‘Who is the one who will have life, and desires to see good days?“ (Ibid., see Ps 34:13)

“What can be sweeter to us, dear brethren, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life” (Ibid.).

It is not only out of the distant past that God’s call is heard; it is today that he comes to elicit a response from us and engage in dialogue.

 

The Rule and the Gospel

St. Benedict calls the disciple to the school of the Gospel: “Let us walk in the paths of the Lord by the guidance of the Gospel” (R Prol). By these words the Father of monks expresses his intention to estab­lish a life patterned after the Gospel. This is the only true foundation on which a community rests. St. Benedict was well aware that his work represented an embodiment of the Gospel designed for his fol­lowers, and Bossuet saw in the Rule “a learned and surprising digest of the entire Gospel teaching.”[1]

The Gospel is the reference point by which to judge the ordinances of the Rule. It is the key to the spirit, to the particular genius of the Rule and the rationale behind the way it organizes monastic life. It is the supreme norm, and the abbot has no other task than to see that the life of his monks conforms to it: “The abbot ought not to teach or ordain or command anything which is against the Lord’s precepts; on the contrary, his commands and his teaching should be a leaven of divine justice kneaded into the minds of his disciples” (R 2).

       There is scarcely an observance in Benedict’s monastery that does not have at least implicit reference to the Gospel and is based on it. If Scripture and its commentaries are read at table, it is because the Lord said, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God” (Matt 4:4). The entire chapter on humility is governed by its first statement: “Holy Scrip­ture, brethren, cries out to us, saying, ‘Everyone who exalts himself shall be humbled, and he who humbles himself shall be exalted“ (Luke 14: 11; R 7). Christ is the master and the teacher, and the community the school where he teaches: “Learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart,” an explicit citation of the Lord (Matt 11 :29). This is the reason for coming to the school of the Lord’s service - to learn humility and gentleness of heart.

For St. Benedict, sacred Scripture has one author. When he speaks of the words of the Lord, he has in mind not only the New Testament logia.[2]  The message of the Eternal Word of God is not limited to the very words of Christ, the ipsissima verba, words cer­tainly authentic in the form they assumed on the lips of the Redeemer in Aramaic. The words of Christ are found throughout Scripture, and it is one and the same Lord who speaks there, from end to end.

In the Prologue, St. Benedict quotes freely from Psalm 34, which reads in part: “Who desires life and covets many days, that he may enjoy good? Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Depart from evil and do good” (vv. 13-14). He hears in these words Christ calling, and what his call entails. He ex­horts the disciple to answer the call and conform to the Gospel: “Having our loins girded, therefore, with faith and the performance of good works, let us walk in his paths by the guidance of the Gospel. . .” (R Prol; see Eph 6:14-15). Similarly, his paraphrase of Psalm 14 is accommodated to the Gospel, Matt 7:24-25.

In meditating on the Old Testament, St. Benedict makes the transfer to the Gospel as a matter of course. He projects the light of the Gospel on the entire word of God and gives it a Christian reading.

 

Lectio divina

Occupation with the word of God can take the form of medita­tive prayer: such was lectio divina. It was reading done alone, in private. St. Benedict clearly provided for this use of the disciple’s time, but to those incapable of applying themselves to it he has some light work assigned instead. Though private, the reading was not altogether unsupervised: “One or two of the seniors should be deputed to go about the monastery at the hours when the brethren are occupied in reading and see that there be no lazy brother who spends his time in idleness or gossip and does not apply himself to the reading, so that he is not only unprofitable to himself but also dis­tracts others” (R 48).

This piece of inside information on monastic behavior suggests that St. Benedict allowed his followers considerable latitude as to the place of reading. It could be the oratory, the cloister, the dormi­tory, the garden. Benedict himself preferred the entrance to the monastery, which overlooked a picturesque expanse stretching far and wide from the foot of Monte Cassino. An episode of the Dialogues shows him at his favorite spot: The Arian Goth named Zalla had been hounding Christians. One day he collared a peasant farmer and pummeled him for his money. The poor man, to gain time, protested that all his money was in Abbot Benedict’s safe­keeping. Whereupon Zalla bound his hands behind his back with a good strong rope and mounting his horse, “forced the farmer to walk ahead of him and lead the way to this Benedict who was keeping his money. . . When they arrived, they found the man of God sitting alone in front of the entrance, reading.” One glance from the abbot, and the prisoner’s bonds fell to his feet. But neither the miracle nor the trembling Zalla’s ensuing prostrations could divert Benedict from his reading (D 31).

The monks spent hours every day on the book given to them by direction of the abbot: “They shall each receive a book from the library, which they shall read straight through from the beginning. These books are to be given out at the beginning of Lent” (R 48).

It is possible, then, to distinguish three ways for St. Benedict’s followers to come into contact with Scripture: 1) listening to scrip­tural readings at the night Office, in the refectory, at Compline; 2) studying and memorizing it in the morning after the night Office, as prescribed in the Rule: “The time that remains after the night Office should be spent in study by those brethren who need a better knowledge of the Psalter or the lessons” (R 8); 3) lectio divina the unhurried, affective reading frequently interrupted by prayer, and for which several hours were set aside daily and all day Sunday and feast days except for the hours of the Office and special duties as­signed to some. By force of circumstances—lack of copies, for one—lectio divina did not ordinarily come from sacred Scripture itself but from commentaries and the small patristic library to which St. Benedict refers in chapter 73 of the Rule.[3]

The reading was a sacred activity, sacra lectio. Its first and most important aim was not simply the acquisition of knowledge but a special kind of wisdom: knowledge with moral goodness or “fear of the Lord.” All attention of mind and heart was fastened on the reading; the love and desire of God were nurtured as the author’s message was gradually absorbed. In St. Benedict’s Rule monastic reading is a prayed reading that leads to contemplation. Medieval writers spoke of “the prayer of meditation.” The monk is alone with his book, alone before God. He has plenty of time to pause over a word, a thought, and can resume his reading as the soul inclines. He is much freer than when reading to the whole community or listen­ing with the community. Consequently, his prayer takes a more a spontaneous turn. Spiritually nourished by hearing the Scriptures read at other times, in lectio divina he again meets an author who speaks to him of God, much in the words of sacred Scripture, and through affective prayer he makes the message more securely his own, the better to live its content.

 

Practicing God’s Word

It is not enough to hear, to read, even to love God’s word. It must be put into practice, and imbue the disciple’s life. St. Benedict is a firm believer in the efficacy of God’s word. In the chapters on the correction of erring brethren he instructs the abbot to apply, among others, “the medicines of the Holy Scriptures” (R 28). He is convinced that the Scriptures have a latent power to soften the rebel­lious will and gently bring it round to observance of their teaching.

The word of God is implanted through faith and is an object of faith, but without the will’s active cooperation it cannot grow and thoroughly Christianize every corner of the disciple’s life, especially the corners that have resisted its influence.

Chapter 4 in the Rule is devoted to the instruments of good works: phrases and sentences culled from the Bible or inspired by it. According to St. Benedict, this catalogue of spiritual precepts consti­tutes the disciple’s tools or equipment provided by God to accom­plish the good that attracted him or her to the monastery or convent in the first place.

Benedict pursues the comparison: “These, then, are the tools of the spiritual craft. If we employ them unceasingly day and night, and return them on the Day of Judgment, our compensation from the Lord will be that wage he has promised: ‘Eye has not seen, nor ear heard what God has prepared for those who love him’ (1 Cor 2:9). Now the workshop in which we shall diligently execute all these tasks is the enclosure of the monastery and stability in the com­munity” (R 4).

Equipped with the word of God, the disciples of Benedict strive daily to put it to work in their lives. They are confident of its power and of God’s strength to support them. They advance toward the light already dawning over the horizon.


[1] Bossuet, Panegyric of St. Benedict, 1665; ed. J. LeBarcq, IV (Paris, n.d.), 630.

[2] logia: the utterances or teachings attributed to Christ and recorded in the Gospels or in other writings of the apostolic age.

[3] St. Benedict does not speak of spiritual conferences that certainly existed. Nor does he indicate how the community acquired the rudiments of education necessary for lectio divina.

Back