To be read: April 10, August 10, December 10

If there are skilled workmen in the monastery, let them work at their art in all humility, but only if the Abbot gives his permission. ²If one of them should grow proud by reason of his art, such that he feels he is conferring a benefit on the monastery, ³let him be removed from that work and not return to it, unless after he has humbled himself the Abbot again orders him to do so. ⁴If any of the work of the artists is to be sold, let them, through whose hands the transaction must pass, see to it, that they do not presume to practice any fraud on the monastery. ⁵Let them always be mindful of Ananias and Sapphira, who suffered death in the body (cf Acts 5:1-11), ⁶lest they and all who practice any fraud in things belonging to the monastery suffer in the soul. ⁷As regards the prices of these things, let not the vice of avarice creep in, ⁸but let it always be sold a little cheaper than it can be sold by secular dealers, ⁹so that God May Be Glorified in All Things(1 Pt 4:11). 

This chapter is not about doing art, it’s about the mindset and the heart of the artisan.  We all have gifts, but are we using them for self-aggrandizement and personal profit, or for the building up of the Body and the glory of the Lord?

“Every good and perfect gift is from above…” (James 1:17).  Monks are not to claim possession of their talents.  Artisans “are to practice their craft with all humility…If one of them becomes puffed up by his skillfulness in his craft…he is to be removed…”.  If an artisan is to project the Imago Christi, he must see that the gift that he has been given by God is “for the common good” (1 Cor. 12:7).  

The gifts that God has given to you are yours to use as you see fit.  You have control over your body, your mind, your spirit.  God has entrusted all that we have to our care.  We can use our body, mind, and spirit for God and His kingdom; or we can abuse them or allow them to become dormant.  The same is true for the gifts that God has graciously entrusted to our care.  We can use the gifts selfishly, for our own benefit.  We can let the gifts become dormant from fear or neglect.  Or we can even use the gifts maliciously as did the fallen angels.  The gifts are yours.  You can “possess” them, or you can yield them to God for Him to use as He sees fit.  It is like the parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14-30).  All three servants were given gifts.  The two who used the gifts wisely for the Master were given more gifts.  The one who selfishly buried his in the ground lost everything.  When we return the gifts God has graciously given to us, He will use them for His glory and will entrust us with more.

You may be concerned if you have not used a God-given gift recently, or you are afraid that you didn’t use it correctly and God will be angry.  “What if God has taken it away from me?”   St. Paul can put your mind at ease.  He said that “the gifts and the call of God are irrevocable” (Rom. 11:29).  Pick up the gifts again.  Ask God to forgive you and to give you the grace to use these gracious gifts for His glory.  Yield your spirit and your gifts to His will.  Then watch what God will do.

What good gifts has God given to you?  Are you allowing them to lie dormant?  Are you using them selfishly?  Or are you using them selflessly for the common good and for God’s glory?

To be read: April 9, August 9, December 9

The Abbot’s table must always be with the guests and travelers. ²Whenever there are no guests, it is in his discretion to invite any of the brothers he should choose. ³Let him,however, insure that one or two of the seniors always remain with the brothers for the sake of discipline. 

In an initial reading of this short chapter it sounds as if the Abbot is being accorded special privilege, however, the import of this discipline is the protection of the monks.  “The abbot’s table must always be with the guests and travelers.”  By having the guests sit with him, the abbot protects the monks from uncomfortable conversation, intrusive questions, and possibly even demonic assignments from the outside.  In protecting the monks under him the abbot is manifesting the Imago Christi, even as Jesus Himself sought to protect His disciples in the Garden when He told those who came to arrest Him, “I told you that I am he; so, if you seek me, let these men go” (John 18:8).  

Are there loved ones whom you are called to shield?  When our loved ones are threatened, it is a temptation to utilize worldly means to protect them.  In the heat of the moment we can find ourselves responding with type for type: returning anger for anger, insult for insult, blow for blow.  When we respond in such a manner, the devil rejoices.  But Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil.  But if any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also…” (Matt. 5:38-39).  Our battle is not with the person confronting us, for as St. Paul says, “we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers…” And putting on the whole armor of God, we can take up “the shield of faith, with which [we] can quench all the flaming darts of the evil one” (Eph. 6:11-18).  And St. James makes this pattern of defense clear to us, saying, “God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.   Submit yourselves therefore to God.  Resist the devil and he will flee from you.Draw near to God and he will draw near to you…” (James 4:6-8).  God is able, and desirous, to defend your loved ones.  Humbly trust Him, and not your own power and ability.

How best can we protect our loved ones while maintaining the Imago Christi?  “Put on the whole armor of God”, draw near, and submit to Him.  

To be read: April 8, August 8, December 8

For their bedding, a straw mattress, a blanket, a coverlet, and a pillow should be sufficient. ¹⁶These beds must, be frequently examined by the Abbot, to prevent personal goods from being found. ¹⁷And if anything should be found with anyone that he did not receive from the Abbot, let him fall under the severest discipline. ¹⁸And that this vice of private ownership may be cut off by the root, let everything necessary be given by the Abbot: ¹⁹that is, cowl, tunic, sandals, shoes, belt, knife, pen, needle, towel, and writing tablet; so that every excuse of want may be removed. ²⁰The Abbot should bear in mind the following sentence from the Acts of the Apostles: “And distribution was made to every man according to his need”(Acts 4:35). ²¹In this way, then, the Abbot will have regard for the infirmities of the needy, not for the evil will of the envious. ²²Yet in all his decisions, let the Abbot bear in mind God’s retribution. 

There are two verses in this section of chapter 55 which help us clearly understand St. Benedict’s mind regarding what he considers necessary for the monks to possess (vv. 15, 19):  these are the things listed for the monks’ use, but none of them are to be kept for private ownership.  The brothers are given what they need, not what they want.  Benedict says, “let everything necessary be given by the Abbot… so that every excuse of want may be removed.”  

We don’t have an abbot to hand us what we need.  And to be honest, most of us in the United States can have much more than what we need, and as a result we can indulge in what we want.  It is a great source of temptation for all of us.  The more we possess, the less we have to charitably give to those less fortunate.  Mahatma Gandhi said, “Live simply so that others may simply live.”  It is a useful proverb.

How do we know when we have stepped over the line from what we need into the realm of excess?  Here is a simple quiz that one can take:  Do you own more than one pair of shoes?  Do you own your own car, truck, or motorcycle?  Do you have a choice of food each day?  Do you have more than one change of undergarments?  Only one in ten people around the world can answer yes to even three of those questions.  As Rich Mullens sang, “Birds have nests foxes have dens, But the hope of the whole world rests, On the shoulders of a homeless man, You had the shoulders of a homeless man, No You did not have a home” (You Did Not Have a Home).  Our homeless Savior commanded us to “Give to him who begs from you, and do not refuse him who would borrow from you” (Matt. 5:42), and promised us that “whoever gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he shall not lose his reward” (Matt. 10:42).  

To truly be the Imago Christi we would, in essence, be the image of a homeless man.  I am not suggesting that we all don rags, live in a cardboard refrigerator box, and beg.  But Benedict’s exhortation that we live with what is sufficient for our needs is a challenge that all of us should take seriously.  This is the Gospel ideal.  This is the mark and measure that St. Benedict proclaims to us in this chapter.

To be read: April 7, August 7, December 7

Let clothing be given to the brothers according to the circumstances of the place and the nature of the climate in which they live, ²because in cold regions more is needed, while in warm regions less. ³This is left to the Abbot’s discretion. ⁴We believe, however, that for a temperate climate a cowl and a tunic for each monk are sufficient; ⁵a woolen cowl is necessary for winter, and a thin or worn one for summer; ⁶also a scapular for work, and sandals and shoes as covering for the feet. ⁷Monks must not worry about the color or the texture of all these things, but use such as can be bought more cheaply. ⁸The Abbot, however, should look to the size to insure that these garments are not too small, but fitted for those who are to wear them. ⁹Those who receive new clothes should always return the old ones, to be put away in the wardrobe for the poor. ¹⁰For it is sufficient for a monk to have two tunics and two cowls, for wearing at night and for washing, ¹¹but any more than that is superfluous and must be taken away. ¹²So, too, when they receive anything new, let them return sandals and whatever is old. ¹³Brothers who are sent on a journey should receive underclothing from the wardrobe, which, on their return, they will replace there, washed. ¹⁴Their cowls and tunics should also be a little better than the ones they usually wear, which they received from the wardrobe when they set out on a journey, and give back when they return. 

William Shakespeare, in his play Hamlet, said, “the apparel oft proclaims the man.”  How often do we make assumptions about a person by their outward appearance?  If we all wore the same garments then the man himself might have to speak and act for himself.  This is the concept behind the uniform clothing of the monastic tradition.  And interestingly enough, it is the same concept behind the use of vestments in the worship of the Church.  Vestments cover the man.  Whereas a televangelist may wear a $3,000 suit and a Rolex watch, if a priest were to do so (I’d, first, ask where the money came from), it would not be obvious, for the vestments cover the man.  The cowl, tunic, sandals, and scapular of the monks was a common garment of the day.  We look at monks vesture now as unusual, but in Benedict’s day, it was simply street clothing.  Thus Benedict directs that the old, worn clothing “should be returned at once and stored in a wardrobe for the poor.”  They would not look odd wearing it.  Our clothing should not become a matter of pride, rather simple, functional, and common enough to not draw attention.  

Another aspect of the clergy vesture is that it is symbolic for the entire congregation of being clothed with Christ Jesus.  We have died with Christ, in baptism, and now we are incorporated into His Body.  For us to truly be the Imago Christi we must look like Him—be clothed in Him.  St. Paul said, “For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ” (Gal. 3:27).  But it is not simply a one-time experience.  We are called daily to “put on the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 13:14).  Before we walk out the door to greet the day, we need to spend time with Jesus and allow him to vest us in His Being, that we may be His image in the world.  We all belong to one Body.  Our presence in the world should not “proclaim the man”, as Shakespeare said, but proclaim the Imago Christi.

To be read: April 6, August 6, December 6

A monk is not allowed at any time to give or to receive letters, tokens, or gifts of any kind, either from parents or any other person, nor from each other, without the permission of the Abbot. ²Even if anything is sent to him by his parents, let him not presume to accept it without making known to the Abbot that he has received it. ³And if the Abbot allows it to be accepted, let it be in the Abbot’s discretion to give it to whom he pleases. ⁴And let not the brother to whom it was sent, become sad, that “no opportunity be given to the devil”(Eph 4:27; 1 Tm 5:14). ⁵Whoever shall presume to act otherwise must fall under the discipline of the Rule. 

This chapter sounds very harsh at first glance.  The monk “is not allowed at any time to give or to receive letters, tokens, or gifts of any kind…”; and even if the Abbot allows the monk to receive a gift, it is “in the Abbot’s discretion to give it to whom he pleases.”  The import of this chapter, though, is less about the giving and receiving of gifts than it is about maintaining detachment from the things of this world.  What are the things that we consider truly valuable?  What is it that we possess?  And have we become so possession conscious that our possessions, in effect, possess us?

When we begin to see the whole Body of Christ as the Family of God then our sense of possessing things becomes less problematic.  We can begin to live the principle of Acts 2:44: “all who believed were together and had all things in common.”  Letting go of our possessions means giving up these gifts to the Imago Christi, the members of the Body of Christ.  It is a discipline, an act of the will.  St. Luke states again in Acts 4:32, “Now the company of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one said that any of the things which he possessed was his own, but they had everything in common.”  This is a goal for all of us to work toward. 

One day, upon returning home from the church, my next door neighbor was standing next to her car,  crying.  As I got out of my car I went over to see if I could help.  She told me that her car had died and her brother, who is a mechanic, had come to look at it and declared it beyond repair.  I offered to help her find a new car, but she began to sob, saying, “I don’t want a new car.  This is my car!  It is the only car I have ever owned, and I want it to last forever.  I don’t want a new car.”  Her car possessed her.

What are the things that would devastate you if they were stolen from you, became irreparably broken, or were destroyed?  We all have things which are precious to us, but they are just things.  Fires happen.  Tornados and hurricanes demolish everything in their path.  Wars devastate communities and lives.  And things simply grow old and wear out.  The things of this world are passing away.  The things of God are eternal.  The things that are truly valuable are the unseen things of God:  His love, His mercy, His salvation, His Kingdom.  “We look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal” (2 Cor. 4:18).  But St. Paul tells us in his letter to the Church at Rome that the things of this world are useful in helping us see these unseen things of God.  He says: “His invisible nature, namely, his eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made” (1:20).  When we let go of our possessions God can use them to redirect our focus, and by receiving them as gifts we can then freely give them up to the Imago Christi, the members of the Body of Christ.  By giving the things of this world into the care of Christ, we allow Him to direct their usage.  Then we are free to receive the eternal things of God.

To be read: April 5, August 5, December 5

The kitchen of the Abbot and guests should be separate from the brothers’, so that the brothers might not be disturbed by the guests who arrive at uncertain times—and monasteries are never without guests. ¹⁷Assign two brothers who are competent to work in the kitchen for a year. ¹⁸Additional help may be given them as they need it, that they may serve without grumbling. And when they have not enough to do in the kitchen, let them go out again for work where it has been assigned to them. ¹⁹This course should be followed, not only in this office, but in all the offices of the monastery, ²⁰that whenever any brother needs help, it be given to him, and that when he has nothing to do, he again does his assigned work. ²¹Moreover, let the guest quarters be assigned to a God-fearing brother, ²²where there should be a sufficient number of beds prepared. ²³And the house of God should be managed by sensible men who will care for it wisely. ²⁴On no account is anyone to associate or speak with guests, who is not ordered to do so; however if a brother meets or sees a guest, he is to greet them humbly, as we have said, and he is to ask for a blessing and to continue on explaining that he is not allowed to speak with a guest. 

Moving from welcoming guests to taking care of their needs, Benedict gives instruction on how that work load may be divided between various members of the community.  The most telling remark in this section is found in verse 23, where he says, “the house of God should be managed by sensible men who will care for it wisely.”  We need wisdom in caring for our home, and wisdom in dealing with our guests. 

We examined welcoming guests into the church in yesterday’s meditation.  But what about into your home, and with whom do you associate in general?  Benedict warns against the brothers having interaction with the guests, unless ordered to do so.  Why is that?  And what relevance does that have for us?  It is wise to be cautious about whom you welcome into your home, and to whom you have extended interaction in your daily life.  St. Peter cautions us to “be watchful, [for] your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking some one to devour” (1 Pet. 5:8).  And St. Benedict warns in verse 5 of this chapter that the “kiss of peace should not be given before a prayer has been said, because satan seeks to deceive.”

When I was doing Kairos prison ministry at Central Prison in Raleigh, I was carpooling for the training sessions with two men from Cashiers, a town about an hour west of Asheville.  These men would spend the night at my house on the night before the training sessions so that we could leave together early on Saturday morning.  Both of these men were convicted felons.  Neither Miranda nor I felt unsafe in their presence because we had all prayed together and spirit witnessed to spirit.  Years later, I had a deacon who, before he had joined our parish, had also opened his home to a convicted felon, but he and his wife had neglected to prayerfully vet their guest.  They left for work the second morning of his stay, and when they returned that evening their home had been thoroughly cleaned out.  Everything of value was gone.

Yes, we should treat the stranger as if he or she were Christ Himself, to see him or her as the Imago Christi.  But we must also be wise in whom we welcome into a deeper relationship.  Benedict commands that “on no account is anyone to associate or speak with guests, who is not ordered to do so…”  Seek confirmation of the Holy Spirit and the elders of the Church before taking a guest further into your confidence and home.  St. Paul reiterates this warning, saying, “Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.So it is not strange if his servants also disguise themselves as servants of righteousness” (1 Cor. 11:14-15).  It is a delicate balance.  As Christians we need to have an open and welcoming spirit.  But take note of Jesus’ exhortation to His disciples as He sent them forth:  “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matt. 10:16).

To be read: April 4, August 4, December 4

Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ, because He will say, “I was a stranger and you welcomed Me”(Mt 25:35). ²And let appropriate honor be shown to all, “especially to those who are of the household of faith” (Gal 6:10) and to wayfarers. ³When a guest is announced, let him be met by the Superior and the brethren with every mark of love. ⁴First they are to pray together, and let them be united in peace. ⁵This kiss of peace, though, should not be given before a prayer has been said, because satan seeks to deceive. ⁶In the greeting let all humility be shown to the guests, whether coming or going. ⁷Let Christ be adored in them, with head bowed or the whole body prostrate on the ground, because He is also received in them. ⁸When the guests have been received, they should be invited to prayer, and after that the Superior, or whom he shall bid, will sit with them. ⁹The divine law is to be read to the guest so that he may be edified, and after that every kindness should be shown to him. ¹⁰The fast may be broken by the Superior in deference to the guest, unless it is a day of solemn fast, which cannot be broken. ¹¹The brothers, however, keep the customary fast. ¹²The Abbot should pour water on the guest’s hands, ¹³and both the Abbot and the whole community wash the feet of all the guests. ¹⁴When they have been washed, the guests say this verse: “We have received Your mercy, O God, in the midst of Your temple”(Ps 47[48]:10). ¹⁵Great care must be taken, especially in the reception of the poor and travelers, because Christ is received more particularly in them; whereas our regard for the wealthy assures them of respect. 

The Rule of St. Benedict is an inspired document. The Holy Spirit obviously had His hand in its composition.  At the same time the Rule’s organization and many of its chapters are characterized by a response to issues facing a growing cenobitic Christian community.  Thus it is that chapters 53-63, which cover some household rules for the monastic community, may appear disparate but are bound together by the inspired theme which permeates the entire Rule: the Imago Christi—the “Image of Christ”.  Seeing Christ in the monastic guest, practicing humility before Abbot and brothers, and denying all for the sake of Christ, all point to the desire to be recreated in the image of Christ. This theme resonates throughout the Rule (cf. RB 72:11; RB 4:21; and meditations on chs. 2-3; chs. 35-42), and it underlies each of the eleven chapters we begin reading today.

Benedict begins this chapter with this exhortation:  “Let all guests who arrive be received as Christ…” In the early years of our parish, when we moved to our second location, Smoky Joe, a homeless man who lived under a lean-to behind the convenience store a half block from our church, would come to our services and sit on the steps to the parish hall at the back of the nave.  He was seldom washed and often reeked of alcohol.  One Sunday a parishioner was trying to comfort and quiet her infant daughter by pacing back and forth behind the last pews. Smoky Joe commented how beautiful the baby was.  The mother asked if he would like to hold her.  Joe was flabbergasted and protested, but she held the baby out to him and he took her in his arms.  Tears began to run down his cheeks.  The next Sunday Smoky Joe showed up for church washed and in clean clothes.  I asked him about the change, and he said to me, “I wasn’t sure you were serious that you welcomed me.  Now I know.”  Benedict says, “let appropriate honor be shown to all”—not just the clean and polished, but to all.  “Let Christ be adored in them…because He is also received in them.”  When we look at the guests who come in through the door of the church do we see the Imago Christi?  How do we greet them?  You can set the example.

To be read: April 3, August 3, December 3

The oratory needs to be what it is called, and let nothing else be done or stored there. ²When the Work of God is finished, all should depart in complete silence, and with reverence for God, ³so that a brother who may desire to pray alone is not prevented by another’s misconduct. ⁴But if perhaps another desires to pray alone, he may simply enter and pray, not with a loud voice, but with tears and fervor of heart. ⁵Therefore, the one who does not wish to say his prayers in this way, is not be permitted to stay in the oratory after the Work of God is finished, as we said, that another may not be disturbed. 

During the Summer of the year prior to the beginning of my seminary career, I spent 12 weeks visiting various kinds of churches in order to get a sense of the breadth of worship styles in the modern Church.  It was eye-opening!  One of the churches I visited was a rather large, non-denominational congregation.  They had recently built a new, multi-purpose “worship space”.  I was seated on a riser across from the pulpit.  The band was on the floor behind the pulpit; and on the risers behind the band a choir was seated.  On the hardwood flooring of the “worship space” was the outline of a basketball court, and directly over my head was a basketball backboard and hoop raised on a folding frame.  It didn’t feel, to me, like “worship space” at all.  I felt like the worship team and congregation had invaded the space dedicated to a sports arena.

St. Benedict would have been appalled by the “worship space” I described above.  He declares that “The oratory needs to be what it is called, and let nothing else be done or stored there.”  The oratory is to be sacred space, designated for silent contemplation, corporate and private prayer, and communal worship.  The Latin word oratio means prayer.  In the monastery of Benedict’s day, private space for quiet personal prayer was hard to come by.  The monks did not have private rooms, taking their sleep in dormitory settings.  Their days were regimented, so wandering off to sit by a quiet stream, or hiking a mountain to pray was not usually an option either.  The oratory was the place of prayer.  The norm in that period was to situate the oratory at the center of the monastic enclosure.  It then became the focal point of the community.  This pattern was carried over into the medieval construction of European cities.  The cathedrals were placed on the highest point and near the center of most European cities.  And even here in the United States, the Washington National Cathedral site was chosen because it is the highest point of land in the nation’s capital.  Would that we centered our government around the oratory and that it became the focal point of the national community!

One of the on-going battles I face as a parish priest is maintaining quiet in the sanctuary before and after a service of worship.  My congregation is very loving and they like to talk to each other.  Sometimes before the beginning of our Sunday worship the din of conversation in the nave can be quite overwhelming.  Benedict says that “the one who does not wish to say his prayers [quietly], is not be permitted to stay in the oratory.”  There are members of the church who do want to pray quietly, and I feel confident that they find the noise level of conversation distracting.  I do try to encourage those who want to fellowship to move to the “fellowship hall”, but it is often a losing battle.  But, think about this, and see if the Lord does not put it on your heart, not to correct others, but to set an example by taking your conversation out of the oratory, “that another may not be disturbed.” 

To be read: April 2, August 2, December 2

A brother who is sent out on any business and is expected to return to the monastery the same day, may not presume to eat outside, even if he is urgently invited to do so, ²unless, indeed, it is commanded him by his Abbot. ³If he act otherwise, he will be excommunicated. 

Again Saint Benedict emphasizes the importance of belonging to the community.  The reason the monk must return to the monastery is so that he may eat with the other members of the community.  To eat outside the monastery would rob the monk of the fellowship of the community.  Today, we live in an age of incredible individualism.  We jealously guard our private time; and that is understandable, because it is extremely rare to have that time.  And the time we do have in our days is consumed with work, family, and other obligations.  As a result, it is not uncommon for us to grab a quick bite at a fast food restaurant and eat alone at our desk or in the car.  And it seems that in our culture we are quickly losing any sense that eating with others means sharing our lives and spiritual communion with each other.  To linger over a meal is too often perceived as “wasted time”.  Miranda and I try to eat dinner together every day, but as an introvert I am quite happy most of the time to eat my lunch alone.  When I am honest, I can admit that I cherish that privacy and solitude.  But the practice of solo dining, if left unchecked, can cut us off from our family and the other members of the faith community.  

What Benedict is suggesting here is that our communal meals are opportunities to deepen the sacramental character of our community.  Whenever possible, I try to arrange counseling times, and visits with my parishioners over a meal, or a the least a cup of coffee.  The food itself is not important, it is the quality time spent in spiritual union during the meal.  To slow down and sip a cup of coffee, or relax over a common meal, opens avenues for genuine fellowship and spiritual union.  Jesus often met with the ones to whom He was ministering over a meal (e.g. Matt. 9:10; 26:7; Luke 5:29; 11:37; 19:5).  The act of breaking bread together draws us into a deeper fellowship.  It is in that sense an outward sign of an inward grace, i.e. a sacramental act.  The Pharisees couldn’t understand this.  They asked Jesus’ disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” (Matt. 9:11; Mark 2:16; Luke 5:30).  Jesus ate with them so that the Holy Spirit could work in that situation, often bringing conviction on the participants in the meal, but equally often opening the door to spiritual enlightenment.  

Is it wrong to “presume to eat outside”?  Or to have a quiet, private, uninterrupted meal?  No.  But, to make a habit of avoiding opportunities for fellowship, and breaking bread with a brother or sister, is spiritually unhealthy.  As the song says, “Let us break bread together” and enjoy the company of the saints in a common meal.

To be read: April 1, August 1, December 1

The brothers who work too far away, and cannot come to the oratory at the appointed time—²and the Abbot has assured himself that such is the case—³should perform the Work of God where they are working, kneeling out of reverence for God. ⁴In the same way let those who are sent on a journey not omit the appointed hours, but say the office by themselves as best they can, and not neglect to fulfill their obligation of divine service. 

In this chapter, and the one to follow, Benedict presses forward with specific guidelines for maintaining faithfulness to the Work of God, even when we are away from home.  These chapters address how to pray in various situations, at work, or on the road, and how to set aside sacred time and sacred space wherever you are.  

Benedict instructs that when you find yourself in unusual surroundings you must not neglect the Work of God, but make sacred time and space for the Divine Office regardless of the circumstances.  This can be difficult.  Often when I am traveling for Church related business, I have no control over my schedule.  I must fit the hours in around conferences, council meetings, etc.  But, if, as we saw in chapter 43, that nothing is to be preferred to the Work of God, then even when schedules are disrupted by travel, sickness, or other unforeseen impingement on our time and routine, we are to “perform the Work of God where [we] are, kneeling out of reverence for God.”  Benedict directs the act of kneeling as it temporarily recreates whatever space we have available for prayer into sacred space.  But, as we observed in the meditation on chapter 19, Holy Scripture does not dictate specific postures for our various forms of worship.  The primary concern of St. Benedict was not the physical posture, but the “reverence for God”.  For example, sitting on the couch in a hotel room, if our undivided attention is directed toward God, can be a reverent posture and create sacred space.

Benedict recognized that there are going to be those times when outside forces can negatively impact the our efforts to keep the holy hours.  He says “let those who are sent on a journey not omit the appointed hours, but say the office by themselves as best they can, and not neglect to fulfill their obligation of divine service” (emphasis added).  The Lord knows our heart (Psalm 44:21).  If the desire of our heart is to honor the Lord and to worship Him, He will be glorified.  The Lord says, “those who honor me I will honor” (1 Sam. 2:30), and “he who brings thanksgiving as his sacrifice honors me” (Psalm 50:23).  So whether we are kneeling, standing, or sitting, and no matter where we are, “at all times, and in all places, give thanks” to the Lord (BCP p. 333). 

One final thought on this topic.  I encourage my parishioners to bring me a signed bulletin from churches they visit while traveling.  I joke that I want it signed to confirm that they actually went to worship there and didn’t just bop into the narthex and grab a bulletin.  And when they do bring a bulletin to me, I acknowledge that at the announcements on Sunday morning.  But the idea in asking them to bring a bulletin is two-fold.  I like to know what other churches are doing, and I want to encourage my parishioners to attend worship when they are away from their parish home.  We are never on vacation from God.  We worship Him “at all times, and in all places!”  We need to encourage one another in that discipline.