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Humility

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SOURCE: "Humility" in Reading Saint Benedict: Reflections on the "Rule," translated by Colette Friedlander, 0. C. S. O., Cistercian Publications, 1994, pp. 75-100.

[In the following essay, originally published in French in 1991, de Vogüé undertakes an exegesis of the seventh chapter of the Rule of St. Benedict, which describes a monk's spiritual ascension to heaven upon the ladder of humility. Footnote numbers designate line numbers of the Rule throughout this essay.]

This chapter [the seventh], which is longer and more important than any other, does not simply describe one of the monk's great virtues. Because that virtue, as we have seen, encompasses the other two, the chapter contains the whole of the Rule's spiritual teaching. Moreover, this description of humility is drawn from a passage in Cassian (Inst. 4.39) which outlined the monk's journey toward perfection, from initial fear of God to the love which drives away fear. Integrated as they are into the present chapter, this starting point and conclusion really give the treatment found in the Master and Benedict the scope of a synthesis. The image of a twelve-step ladder, which serves as its framework, is presented by our authors in a preamble:

1 Brothers, divine Scripture calls to us saying: 'Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, and whoever humbles himself shall be exalted'.2 In saying this, it shows us that every exaltation is a kind of pride.3 The Prophet indicates that he shuns this by saying: 'Lord, my heart is not exalted, and my eyes are not lifted up. I have not walked in the ways of the great nor gone after marvels beyond me.'4 But what would happen 'if I had not a humble spirit, if I had exalted my soul? You would treat me as a child weaned from its mother.'

5 Accordingly, brothers, if we want to reach the summit of supreme humility, and if we want to attain speedily that exaltation in heaven to which we climb by the humility of this present life, 6 then by our ascending actions we must set up that ladder on which Jacob in a dream saw angels descending and ascending. 7 Without doubt, this descent and ascent can signify only, according to us, that exaltation makes us descend and humility makes us ascend. 8 As for the ladder erected, it is our life here below. When our hearts have been humbled, the Lord will raise it to heaven. 9 We may say that our body and soul are the sides of this ladder. Into these sides, the divine call has fitted the various steps of humility and good conduct that we may ascend them.

The words of Christ which open the chapter can be read three times in the New Testament. Their purpose there is to instil now modesty which makes us agreeable to men (Lk 14:11), now the spirit of service which must impel God's representatives (Mt 23:12), now the attitude appropriate to the sinners we all are before the Lord (Lk 18:14). Quoted here in the form given by Saint Luke, this keyword of the Gospel has two parts, both of which will be briefly commented on by means of texts from the Old Testament. The first, on the humbling of the proud, is paraphrased by the Psalmist: the soul that gives itself over to pride shall be weaned from God (Ps 130:1-2). The second, on the exaltation of the humble, is explained by Jacob's dream: a ladder rises up to heaven (Gn 28:12). In both these Old Testament passages, humility appears under a twofold aspect, interior and exterior. The Psalmist speaks of both 'heart' and 'eyes'; Jacob's ladder has two sides, symbols of body and soul. Benedict and especially the Master note the predominantly interior or bodily aspect of certain steps.

The gospel maxim will therefore be illustrated by the image from Genesis. Giving these scriptural texts their broadest and strongest meaning, our authors draw from them a vision of all of christian life, both here below and in the hereafter. We abase ourselves in this world in order to be exalted in the next. The ladder is a figure of our entire present life, viewed as an ascent towards heaven. This is why the Master very logically concludes his chapter with a description of heaven, while Benedict, wishing to abridge the text, stops at the spiritual summit attained on earth, which is charity.

To ascend to heaven is a uniquely christian ambition. The author of Genesis did not contemplate it: the beings Jacob saw going up and down the ladder were angels, not human beings. In order to give humankind the unheard of hope of going to God, nothing less was needed than the ascension of the Son of God made man. It is in his wake and by his grace, obtained through his abasement, that we dare to start up the ladder and to aspire to see the transcendent God.

Like the gospel quotation, the image of the ladder is unique to the Master and Benedict. It is not found in the underlying passage from the Institutes. Cassian did, to be sure, outline a journey which went from fear to charity by way of outward renunciation and humility, but its ten 'signs' did not constitute a progression. Though carefully ordered—three traits relating to obedience and two to patience, then three concerning self-effacement and two connected with stillness—they were not set out as a methodical and complete agenda, but merely as a list of examples liable to be expanded and ordered differently.

By transposing this description of the humble monk within the framework of his graduated ladder, the Master, followed by Benedict, gave it a progressive and systematic appearance which should probably not be taken too seriously. Like Cassian's signs, to which they correspond, the steps of our Rules are not so much rungs to be climbed one after the other as signs of virtue which can and should appear simultaneously.

In contrast to this central block, made up of steps 2-11, the first step has a clearly initial and basic character. This is because the Master has borrowed it not from the list of the ten signs of humility, but from the preliminary stage constituted, in Cassian's view, by 'fear of the Lord'. Originally external to humility, this religious fear was inserted into it by our Rules, giving the great monastic virtue a primordial orientation towards God. Cassian's signs concerned only humility toward one's neighbor. By adding a first step relative to the Lord and a twelfth which has the same direct connection with the divine Master, our Rules envelop humility towards human beings within a gaze turned towards God.

10 The first step of humility, then, is that placing the fear of God always before our eyes, we always shun forgetfulness,11 and constantly remember everything God has commanded, constantly going over in our mind how hell burns all those who despise God on account of their sins, as well as everlasting life prepared for those who fear God.12 And guarding himself at every moment from sins and vices of thought or tongue, of hand or foot, of self-will or fleshly desire,13 man must be persuaded that God is looking at him from heaven at every moment, that the deity's glance sees his actions everywhere and that angels report on them at every hour.

Just as Chapter 7 is disproportionate in size, so the first step likewise differs entirely in length from those following it. Together with the twelfth, it amounts to a picture of humility with regard to God which is barely less ample and less detailed than that of humility with regard to human beings contained in the ten intermediate steps.

The details of this great fresco are nearly all drawn from a passage of the 'tools for good works' (4:44-60): awaiting the last things, watching over our own conduct, believing that we are always in God's sight, controlling our thoughts and words, renouncing fleshly desires and self-will—all of these have already been found there as separate items. But the phrase 'fear of God' under which these elements are grouped here echoes Cassian. More specifically, Cassian spoke of the 'fear of the Lord' (Inst. 4.39.1) which, according to Scripture, is the beginning of wisdom (Ps 110:10; Pr 9:10). Our authors substitute 'God' for 'the Lord' because they have in mind another expression from the psalms: 'keeping the fear of God before one's eyes' (Ps 35:2).

According to Cassian, this initial fear, in permeating the soul, gives rise to the outer renunciation of all ownership, and the latter leads to the inner renunciation which is humility. These two steps, the first of which corresponds to entering the monastery and the second to monastic life itself, imitate Christ's successive abasements: the deprivation of the Incamation and the humiliation of the Cross (Ph 2:6-8). Omitting the stage of renouncing the world, which they describe at the end of their Rules, the Master and Benedict bring together fear of God and humility, so that the former becomes the latter's basic element. Instead of leading from the world to the monastery, it emerges as the dominant and constantly fostered feeling which permeates the monk's entire life.

In the conclusion to the chapter, as we shall see, fear will be eliminated by love, which is the summit reached after climbing the twelve steps. When we follow John the Apostle in thus opposing fear and charity, we have in mind its least noble form, the fear of punishment, which impels a slave to obey, as it were, in spite of himself. Here the fear of God (and not of punishment) far transcends this baser feeling. As in the entire Old Testament and in almost all of the New, we are dealing with the religious attitude par excellence, consisting in unspeakable respect for the Lord whose word is listened to with veneration and whose law is lovingly observed. The high quality of this feeling is shown by the end to which it leads: we are told that everlasting life is prepared for those who fear God.

Here below, the person who fears God 'guards himself at every moment from sins and vices'. We may remember that the struggle against the vices of body and mind is the monk's great task (1:5), and that the prospect of amending his vices is the great hope offered the abbot (2:40). Guarding oneself against all manner of sin is evoked by a list of the six parts of the human compound in which it must be practised: thoughts, tongue, hands, feet, self-will, and fleshly desires. The Master then goes over these six areas in the light of Scripture. Benedict, aiming as always at brevity, will include only the first and the last two in his scriptural reflections.

Along with the struggle against these various sins and in order that that struggle may be effective, our authors instil the conviction that God, who is everywhere present, sees us always. These two joint themes are characteristic of the Rule of Saint Basil, from which the Master seems to draw his inspiration throughout the first step and in the twelfth. Basil however, is more reserved than our authors on the role of fear in the search for God—seemingly at least, for, as we have seen, the term 'fear' is an ambiguous one.

14 This is what the Prophet indicates to us when he shows that God is always present to our thoughts, saying: 'God searches hearts and minds';15 again: 'The Lord knows the thoughts of men'.16 And he says besides: 'From afar you understood my thoughts'.17 And: 'For the thought of man shall open up to you'.18 Moreover, that he may take care to avoid perverted thoughts, the virtuous brother must always say in his heart: 'I shall be blameless before him only if I guard myself from my own iniquity'.

19 As for our own will, we are forbidden to do it when Scripture tells us: 'And turn away from your wishes'.

20 And in the Prayer we also ask God that his will be done in us.21 We are thus rightly taught not to do our own will, when we beware of what Scripture says: 'There are ways which seem right to men and whose end plunges into the depths of hell',22 and also when we dread what is said of the negligent: 'They are corrupt and have become depraved in their wishes'.

23 In the desires of the flesh, we must believe that God is always present to us, since the Prophet says to the Lord: 'All my desires are before you'.24 We must then be on guard against any evil desire, because 'death is stationed on the doorstep of pleasure'.25 For this reason Scripture has given us this precept: 'Pursue not your lusts'.

Cut down to half its original size by Benedict, this scriptural anthology has a double purpose: to show both that God is present to all human action; and that man must guard himself from all sin. The second thesis obviously flows from the first, but the Master nonetheless strove to find distinct proof of it. He did not fully succeed in carrying out this twofold agenda. Granted that his first and last paragraph, devoted to thoughts and fleshly desires, offer biblical texts witnessing both to the presence of God and to the necessity of eliminating sin, his intermediate sections illustrate only one of the themes: that of the divine presence appears alone in the paragraphs on the tongue, hands, and feet (omitted by Benedict), and only the notion of mounting guard against sin is mentioned in connection with self-will.

The case concerning thoughts consists entirely of psalm quotations, arranged first in ascending and then in descending order (ascending: Ps 7:10, 93:11, 138:8; descending: Ps 75:11; 17:24). The passage regarding self-will begins with a saying from Ecclesiasticus (Si 18:3Ob) whose other half is to be found in the next paragraph; then, after the Lord's Prayer (Mt 6:10), the Rule quotes another wisdom book (Pr 16:25; cf. Mt 18:6), and finally the Psalter (Ps 13:1). As for fleshly desires, two phrases from the Old Testament (Ps 37:10 and Si 18:30a) frame another quotation, which remains anonymous and even implicit: 'Death is stationed on the doorstep of pleasure'. The phrase comes from one of those Passions of roman martyrs of which the Master was so fond, that of Saint Sebastian (Pass. Seb. 14).

At the end of the exposition on thoughts, one detail deserves to be noted. The virtuous brother (literally: 'useful', that is, good) must 'always say in his heart' a certain phrase from the psalms, but slightly rearranged. No doubt this precept is not to be taken strictly, as an invitation ceaselessly to repeat a prayer formula. The Master and Benedict do not have in mind here the exercise advocated by Cassian (repeating: 'God, come to my assistance … '), by oriental monasticism (the Jesus prayer) and by Hinduism (the mantra), still more since their psalm formula is addressed not to God but to the person who says it. Besides, by offering other words to be said constantly further on (7:65; cf. 7:50 and 52-54) our authors show clearly that they do not have in mind a contemporary practice of perpetual repetition, continued invariably throughout one's life. Yet, such recommendations do put us on the track of the methods of 'meditation' we mentioned. Whatever the formula used and the way it is used, the repetition of a sacred phrase is a device whose value has been tested by several great monastic traditions independently of one another, and can still be of great help to seekers of God today.

26 Accordingly, if 'the eyes of the Lord are watching the good and the wicked',27 if 'the Lord looks down at all times from heaven on the sons of men to see whether there is one who understands and seeks God'; 28 and if every day the angels assigned to guard us report our deeds to the Lord day and night, 29 then, brothers, we must be vigilant every hour lest, as the Prophet says in the psalm, God observe us 'falling' at some time into evil and 'made worthless',30 and lest, after sparing us in the present time because he is good and waits for us to improve, he tell us in the future: 'This you did, and I said nothing'.

This long sentence, which concludes the first step, draws our attention back to the last things. But now we are dealing with an event which has not yet been mentioned—judgment. That is where we run the risk of hearing God say to us: 'This you did, and I said nothing' (Ps 49:21). Here below the Lord observes us in silence, with a continuous gaze which can already tell the good from the wicked (Pr 15:3), the God-seeking from the wayward (Ps 13:2-3). God's goodness, which leads him to await our conversion this way, has already been celebrated in the Prologue (Prol 35-38).

While simply copying what he read in the Master, Benedict has become so thoroughly convinced of it that he will repeat it in a section which is unique to him: the introduction to the chapter on psalmody (19:1-2). In his view, the Office is the time when faith in God's presence and sight reaches its point of incandescence.

31 The second step of humility is that we love not our own will nor take pleasure in the satisfaction of our desires, 32 but rather imitate in our actions those words of the Lord saying: 'I have come not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me'.33 Scripture also says: 'Will has its punishment and constraint wins a crown'.

This second step introduces us into the middle zone of the ladder, where the Master and Benedict draw their inspiration from Cassian's 'signs of humility'. While recasting these quite thoroughly, the Master has enriched them with scriptural illustrations which make them more attractive: in practising them we do not merely show that we are humble; we also answer God's calls.

This step, closely connected with the following one, presents the negative face of obedience before its positive aspect. It corresponds to Cassian's first 'sign': the mortification of one's will, yet to this it adds desires. In the first step, the two already formed a pair originating in the Bible (Si 18:30; Gal 5:16-17).

As for the two quotations on which this detachment from all personal will is grounded, they are very unequal in weight. The first, which we have already come across (5:13), is nothing less than words spoken by Christ of himself (Jn 6:38). The second, while also presenting itself as 'Scripture', is actually drawn from the legendary Passion of Saint Anastasia, a martyr venerated in Rome (Pass. Anast. 17). In reproducing it, Benedict was most likely unaware of its non-biblical origin. This saying, ascribed in the story to a martyr called Irene, adds to the words and example of Christ the witness of a disciple who followed him until death.

34 The third step of humility is that, for the love of God, we submit to the superior in all obedience, imitating the Lord of whom the Apostle says: 'Having made himself obedient even to death'.

This third step contrasts by its conciseness with the Master's, from which it is drawn. Benedict has retained only one of his forerunner's seven scriptural quotations, and it is perfectly chosen. In fact, except for one expression, the others have already appeared in both Rules in the chapter on obedience and in the first step of humility. On the contrary, the great pauline phrase which Benedict retains (Ph 2:8) has not yet been quoted, and this evocation of Christ on the cross is extremely valuable. Thanks to it, the doctrine on obedience developed in Chapter 5 and here condensed is enriched with a priceless touch. 'Imitating Christ' was already suggested in the previous step, but it is good to be reminded here that 'doing the will of the Father', as Jesus said in the words of the Gospel quoted there, entailed for him, in the last analysis, 'making himself obedient even to death'.

If we look to the Master's source-text, we find that he had in mind Cassian's third 'sign of humility': the humble monk follows not his own will, but that of the senior who watches over him. On the other hand, it had not occurred to the Master to motivate obedience by the words 'for the love of God'. This motivation is unique to Benedict. The addition is all the more significant because it muddles up the blueprint drawn by Cassian and the Master: only after humility, as we shall see, do we rise to charity. But the consistency of this doctrinal scheme matters less to Benedict than his own conviction, based on the first commandment of Scripture and on daily experience: all christian life, and a fortiori all monastic life, is rooted in divine love. Here as elsewhere (68:5; 71:4), he does not hesitate therefore to make divine love the motive behind obedience, even though he gets ahead of himself.

35 The fourth step of humility is that in this very practice of obedience, when we are subjected to harsh treatment or contradiction or even to all sorts of injustices, our conscience silently embraces patience36 and that, holding out, we neither become discouraged nor retreat, as Scripture has it: 'He who perseveres to the end will be saved'.37 And also: 'Be firm of heart and bear with the Lord'.

38 And wishing to show how the faithful must even endure any and every contradiction for the Lord's sake, it puts the following words in the mouth of those who suffer: 'For your sake we are put to death daily. We are regarded as sheep marked for slaughter.'39 And sure of the divine reward which they expect, they continue, saying joyfully: 'But in all this we overcome because of him who loved us'.

40 And elsewhere Scripture also says: 'You have tested us, o God, you have tried us as silver is tried by fire; you have led us into a snare. You have placed affliction on our backs.'41 And in order to show that we must be under a superior, it continues in these terms: 'You have placed men over our heads'.

42 Moreover, they are fulfilling the Lord's command by patience in the midst of hardships and injustices: when struck on one cheek, they turn the other also; to whoever deprives them of their tunic, they also offer their cloak; when pressed into service for one mile, they go two;43 with the Apostle Paul, they bear with false brothers, as well as with persecution, and when cursed, they answer with blessings.

Cassian's fourth sign consisted in remaining patient in obedience. Then, broadening the theme, the author of the Institutes advanced as a fifth sign the peaceful acceptance of wrongs of all kinds, things which can be caused not only by the superior who commands, but also by any member of the community.

These two signs are combined in the present step, the longest of the ten intermediate rungs in our Rule. By comparing it with two parallel passages from the Master, we can see that the latter regards such patience in obedience as an equivalent of martyrdom. In fact, scriptural illustration is drawn from the most heroic texts found in both Testaments.

These quotations go two by two. First the 'perseverance to the end' required by Jesus (Mt 10:22) and the courage to 'bear with the Lord' of which the psalmist spoke (Ps 26:14). Then 'daily death' for God's sake, another psalm image (Ps 43:22) taken up and elaborated on by Saint Paul, who turns it into a victory (Rm 8:36-37). The Psalter also provides the next two quotations, in which the evocation of the 'fire' and 'snare' of trial ends with a remarkably realistic figure of obedience: 'men are placed' by God 'over our heads' (Ps 65:10-11 and 12). We return at last to the Gospel, with several touches from the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5:39-41), and to Saint Paul, that model of patience with false friends (2 Co 11:26), persecutors, and detractors (1 Co 4:12). In this last group of texts we can clearly make out troubles arising not from superiors, those accredited representatives of God, but from any brothers, as in Cassian's fifth sign.

The spiritual climax of the passage is surely to be found in two sentences from the Letter to the Romans. 'For your sake … because of him who loved us': without using the word—which he saves for the end of the chapter—the Master, followed by Benedict, here sketches an attitude very close to charity. The name he gives it—'hope'—marks a progression over the 'fear' of the first step. It is true that fear already included the thought of everlasting life, but now, in the fire of trial, faith in that reward turns into joyful confidence.

Combining the gospel themes of perseverance in persecution and not resisting evil, this fine passage is among those pages of the Rule to which we go back most often and most happpily in the course of our monastic life.

44 The fifth step of humility is that, by humble confession, we do not conceal from our abbot any evil thoughts entering our hearts or any evil deeds committed in secret.45 Scripture exhorts us to do this by saying: 'Make known your way to the Lord and hope in him'.46 It also says: 'Confess to the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy is forever'.47 So too the Prophet: 'To you I have acknowledged my offense, and I have not concealed my injustice.48 1 have said: Against myself I will report my injustice before the Lord, and you have forgiven the wickedness of my heart.'

Cassian already required the humble monk to 'hide nothing from his senior, not only about his actions, but also about his thoughts' (second sign). In response, the senior gave a judgment concerning the actions and thoughts confessed, and the brother submitted to it fully (third sign). The confession of the one directed and the director's advice formed a pair which the Institutes placed in the first group of signs, the features of obedience.

By displacing this opening of the heart and by modifying its formulation, the Master and Benedict have changed its nature. In their texts it is no longer followed by its natural extension, direction given by the senior. Instead of an act of submission by which the monk prepared to receive his director's instructions, we are now dealing with an act of self-abasement in which he confesses his sins. For the object of the confession no longer consists in actions or thoughts of uncertain quality on which one expects a senior's verdict, but evil thoughts and actions already judged to be such by the one confessing them.

This fifth step thus no longer belongs like Cassian's corresponding sign, to the group of demonstrations of obedience, but rather to acts of self-abasement or humility proper, which will include the next three steps. Before putting up with all manner of treatment, acknowledging that we are the least of all people and withdrawing into the background by conforming entirely to accepted custom, we make ourselves known for what we are: sinners in thought and deed.

This 'humble confession' to a superior, who is not necessarily a priest, has no sacramental significance in the ecclesiastical meaning of the term. We are seeking not to obtain absolution but to acquire virtue. Yet, the scriptural illustration shows that the abbot to whom we make our confession holds the place of Christ, here as elsewhere. The three quotations, all drawn from the Psalter (Pss 36:5; 105:1; 31:5) speak unanimously of a confession made 'to the Lord' whose mercy and forgiveness we hope for. In the light of these texts, it appears that, besides the acquisition of humility, our authors have in view the remission of sin, which, for that matter, simply follows from the act of humility performed (cf. Cassian, Conf. 20.8.3). Only midway through the Rule (46:5-6) will Benedict mention another fruit of secret confession: the healing of the soul's wounds through the spiritual father's care.

49 The sixth step of humility is that a monk is content with the lowest and most menial treatment, and regards himself as a poor and worthless workman in whatever task he is ordered to do,50 saying to himself with the Prophet: 'I have been reduced to nothing and I have known nothing. I have been as a brutish beast before you and I am with you always.'

Cassian's seventh sign, reproduced almost verbatim by the Master, consisted in accepting the poorest objects (food, clothing, shoes, etc.), without asking any other payment for manual work worth much more. This glaring disproportion between salary and work, which was the common lot of egyptian cenobites, could be interpreted in terms of humility: the monk regarded himself as a 'worthless servant', according to the Gospel (Lk 17:10).

By changing one word, Benedict modifies the significance of the text. Instead of objects 'provided' (praebentur), he speaks of things 'ordered' (iniunguntur). By this alteration, the sixth step becomes an extension of steps 2-4: we are dealing once more with obedience. As we already knew, the latter must be total (step 3) and bear with any and all injustice (step 4). Benedict now specifies that the monk must accept the lowliest tasks and regard them as too good for him.

The Master's scriptural quotation (Ps 72:22-23) lends itself to the new as well as to the former meaning. Beyond giving the feeling of being reduced to nothing, it superbly expresses the monk's sole desire: to be with God always.

51 The seventh step of humility is that, not content to state with our tongue that we are the last and lowliest of all, we also believe it in the depths of our heart,52 humbling ourselves and saying with the Prophet: 'As for me, I am a worm, not a man, scorned by men and despised by the people.53 I was exalted, humbled and overwhelmed with confusion'.54 And again: 'It was a good thing for me that you humbled me, in order that I might learn your commandments'.

This step, inseparable from the previous one, reproduces Cassian's eighth sign. The most important change made by the Master and Benedict consists in turning the contrast between the two kinds of behavior ('not … but rather') into a progression ('not content … also'). In such a perspective, statements of inferiority are acceptable and even useful, although they are not enough. According to Cassian, on the contrary, they are superfluous; the only useful attitude consists in believing oneself to be the least of all. The apt story told by abbot Serapion (Conf. 18:11) unmasks the deception to which humble language too often amounts. Instead of words by which we delude both ourselves and others, we must cultivate real feelings, neither paralyzing self-deprecation nor masochistic indulgence in abjection, but an honest and peaceful acknowledgment of the actual deficiencies of which we are presently conscious, as well as all those which might reveal themselves under other circumstances.

The conviction suggested by this step is so strange and exaggerated that some have attempted to justify it by some mystical illumination. Without ruling out such an interpretation, which can readily be illustrated by more than one saint's life, we must note first of all that Cassian's target is a kind of verbalism: one halfheartedly declares oneself the least of all men. In reaction against such superficial words, he suggests interiorizing them. When he talks of judging oneself inferior to everyone else, it is the verbal formulas he reproves: instead of saying this, try instead to believe it. The monk is not being required to give a categorical verdict concerning his place in the human race—God is the sole judge of human worth—but asked to transfer his effort at humility from his mouth to his heart.

Our authors give us to understand that this step is one of 'humility' in a special way. This is implied in the phrase which introduces the quotations: the monk 'humbles himself and says.…' And the same verb 'to humble oneself comes up twice in the quotations themselves. As for the content of the texts quoted, it is helpful to reflect that the first (Ps 21:7) applies naturally to Christ on the cross, even though our authors do not point this out. The second (Ps 87:16), which follows after it immediately, is likewise a lament of the Psalmist for himself. The third, (Ps 118:71-73), on the contrary, is addressed to God. Like the verse quoted in the previous step, it admirably expresses the undivided love of someone who has no other treasure than the divine will.

55 The eighth step of humility is that a monk does only what is endorsed by the common rule of the monastery and the example set by his superiors.

Unlike the others, this step is not backed up by any scriptural text, since Benedict omits the two quoted by the Master.

While reproducing Cassian's sixth sign almost exactly, our authors modify it by adding a word: monasterii. According to Cassian, the 'common rule' to which the humble monk conforms is the universal custom of egyptian monasticism, deemed to have originated in the days of the apostles. By specifying that they have in mind the common rule of the monastery, the Master and Benedict particularize this general norm. Correlatively, those whose example is to be followed are no longer the 'seniors' of monastic tradition, but, according to another meaning of the same word (maiores), the 'superiors' of the monastery, as the Master's scriptural illustration clearly shows.

Although our authors thus specify the twofold norm to be followed by bringing it down to the setting of their own community, the spirit of the practice remains unchanged. The point is self-effacement pursued by conforming to the local customs, by making the common observance one's own, by unreservedly embracing a tradition.

56 The ninth step of humility is that a monk forbids his tongue to speak and, remaining silent, does not speak until asked a question,5 for Scripture warns that 'in speaking a great deal you will not avoid sin', S8 and that 'a talkative man goes about aimlessly on earth'.

After the steps of humility (2-3), of patience (4) and of self-abasement (5-8), here are three which relate to speech and laughter. They correspond to Cassian's last two signs. Cassian's only sign concerning speech is split by our Rules into two steps: steps 9 and 11, which frame the one on laughter (10).

Cassian simply recommended 'restraining one's tongue'. The Master, followed by Benedict, turns 'restrain' (cohibeat) into 'forbid' (prohibeat). The mere restraint advocated by the Institutes thus becomes genuine mutism, the limit of which is, however, outlined further on in the sentence: we are to remain silent until asked a question. The Master thus refers to the complicated casuistry set out in his second chapter on stillness, a casuistry which he develops yet further in the rest of his Rule. Benedict neglects these subtle regulations, retaining only the principle set forth here. In so doing, does he still have in mind the specific discipline the Master was aiming at: in the presence of his superiors, abbot, or dean, the monk must wait to be questioned? He may instead be thinking of a general attitude, valid at all times and with regard to anyone; this is how we spontaneously understand the passage.

The first scriptural quotation (Pr 10:19) has already been called on in the treatise on silence (6:4). The second (Ps 139:12) is new. Both recommend that one speak sparingly, less in order to acquire humility than to avoid sin or missteps. We may recognize here one of the themes of the chapter on stillness. Whatever its motivations, silence has been a characteristic trait of monks, whether cenobites or hermits, from the beginning. In order to let the word of God reverberate in them and to answer it by constant prayer, they give up exchanging human words.

59 The tenth step of humility is that we are not given to ready laughter, for it is written: 'The fool raises his voice in laughter'.

This tenth step reproduces exactly Cassian's tenth and last sign. As for the scriptural motivation (Si 21:23), it was already found in Saint Basil (Reg. 8.29), who added the gospel cursing of those who laugh (Lk 6:21) and the example of Christ himself, whom Scripture depicts several times weeping but never laughing. Such reflections occur quite frequently in the writings of the Fathers. They surprise us and, however pertinent they may be, draw our attention to an aspect of monastic asceticism less prominent today than it was then. Perhaps we are too lenient when it comes to laughter; true joy lies elsewhere.

One of the tools of good works prescribed not speaking words that induce laughter, another not loving boisterous laughter (4:53-54). Here the scriptural quotation reminds us of the second, while the sentence borrowed from Cassian relates rather to the first tool: we must be inclined neither to laugh nor to induce laughter. For others as for ourselves, true joy consists in being mindful of God.

60 The eleventh step of humility is that, when a monk speaks, he does so gently and without laughter, humbly and seriously, saying only brief and reasonable words, and avoids raising his voice,6" as it is written: 'A wise man is known by the brevity of his speech'.

Cassian's ninth sign consisted not only in speaking sparingly, but also in speaking in a low voice. We find this last instruction, reproduced literally, at the end of the present step ('let him avoid raising his voice'). The Master availed himself of the opportunity to specify how monks should speak. The first of his three pairs of remarks renews the condemnation of laughter, the second advocates seriousness (gravitas), which goes hand in hand with stillness (cf. 6:3), and the third recommends brevity, as does the text quoted at the end.

Our two Rules couple different adjectives with 'brief (pauca): 'holy' in the Master's, 'reasonable' in Benedict's. By 'holy', the Master meant spiritual and edifying words concerning Scripture and the things of God. Benedict is less ambitious; he requires only 'reasonable' talk. 'Reasonable' is a term he likes to use as an adjective (2:18) and especially as an adverb (31:7, etc.). Here his concern with the good use of speech in ordinary life filters through for the first time. Talking about the ordinary things of life is not simply a necessity, to be reduced to the unavoidable minimum. Such exchanges between brothers must have a certain quality, and they must above all bear the stamp of reason.

The final quotation is not drawn from Scripture, as our Rules seem to suggest, but from a collection of pytha-gorean maxims christianized in the third century: the Enchiridion or Manual of Sextus (Ench. 145). The author, a philosopher, has been confused with Saint Xystus or Sixtus, pope and martyr (+ 258), to whom the work is ascribed by the monk Rufinus, who translated it into Latin for the roman public around the year 400. Was Benedict aware of the origin of this maxim, which he inherited from the Master? Whether he was or not, he made it his own, as he had earlier the one drawn from the Passion of Anastasia, another roman writing. While sounding like an inspired proverb, this quotation from a philosopher reminds us that for some of its greatest founders, like Augustine, monastic life numbered among its roots the wondrous love of wisdom entertained by some currents of ancient thought.

62 The twelfth step of humility is that a monk always manifests in his bearing no less than in his heart his humility to those who see him,63 in other words, that at the work of God, in the oratory, the monastery, or the garden, on a journey or in the fields, everywhere, whether he sits, walks or stands, his head is always bowed and his eyes cast towards the ground,64 believing himself always guilty of his sins, he believes that he is already appearing at the fearful judgment,65 constantly saying in his heart what the publican in the Gospel said with eyes cast down toward the ground: 'Lord, I am not worthy, sinner that I am, to lift my eyes to heaven'.66 And also with the Prophet: 'I am bowed down and humbled to the utmost'.

As we may remember, this last step is not drawn from Cassian's 'signs of humility'. Like the first, which it resembles by so many of its details, it is a creation of the Master. In these two end-steps, the humble monk is turned towards God. Of course he is first required to 'manifest humility to those who see him', but afterwards there is talk only of gestures and feelings relating to God. It is in thinking of God, and of God alone, that the monk assumes the humble attitude which strikes peoples' eyes.

Heart and body: this couplet already appeared at the beginning of the Rule (Prol 40). It recalls those we found at the beginning of this chapter: heart and eyes, soul and body (7:3 and 9). In going from the first term to the second, the Master no doubt had in mind the seventh step, where he moved in the reverse direction, from tongue to heart. But the exteriorization of sorts which he now prescribes must not mislead us: here as elsewhere, what is essential takes place inside. This is evinced by the final words, which the monk must'constantly repeat to himself in his heart'.

To manifest by all our movements and even by our facial expression that we are standing in the presence of God: Saint Basil regarded this as an excellent way of edifying our brothers when we are too old and tired to do anything else (Reg. 86.2). The Master required this same example of the fully active monk; the depiction of this activity goes from the center of the monastery—the divine office and the oratory—to its outskirts. Basil, however, did not indicate the precise attitude described by our Rules: bent head, downcast eyes. On this point, the Master drew only on his own principles, which he states several times in the Rule with various motivations. Here the reason for the bent head is the awareness of sin and the expectation of judgment, which is considered imminent.

This sense of already standing before the judge recalls the conclusion of the first step. There the Master and Benedict spoke of judgment as of a 'future' event. Here the future becomes present: the truth known to us by faith appears as an accomplished fact.

This anticipation results in a new relation to sin. In the first step, the point was to avoid it. At the twelfth, the monk considers no longer the misdeeds he might commit, but those he actually has committed. This time his glance goes backwards, as though life were virtually over and all that remains is to take stock of it.

The first of the two final quotations consists of words we must constantly say, as was already required at another phrase in the first step (7:8). Placed in the mouth of the publican in the Gospel (Lk 18:13), these words are not, however, those that Luke has him speak. The Master and Benedict replace the invocation 'Have mercy on me, a sinner'—used by Eastern Christians in their famous Jesus Prayer—with a phrase that begins with the centurion's 'Lord, I am not worthy' (Mt 8:8) but especially recalls the words of King Manasses: 'I am not worthy to look up to the heights of heaven, so many are my iniquities' (Or, Man. 10). Several verses of the Prayer of Manasses, a brief apocryphal work, are reproduced elsewhere by the Master (RM 14:34-40). Here the penitent king's confession (cf. 2 Ch 33:12 and 18-19) merges with Luke's description of the publican.

Immediately afterwards, the Prayer has Manasses say: 'I am bent under the weight of chains'. These words of the captive king probably suggested the second quotation found in our Rules (Ps 37:9), which begins similarly.

It may seem strange to end an ascent with a confession of sin which began with a resolve to avoid all manner of misdeeds. But Gregory the Great and many other saints observe that purification is accompanied by an ever sharper awareness of one's impurity. And Christ himself justified the publican, the model for those who humble themselves that they may be exalted.

67 Therefore, once the monk has climbed all these steps of humility, he will arrive at that love of God which is perfect and which casts out fear.68 Through it, all that he once performed not without dread, he will now begin to observe effortlessly, as though naturally, from habit,69 no longer out of fear of hell, but out of love for Christ and good habit and delight in the virtues.70 May the Lord manifest this state by the Holy Spirit in his workman now purified of vices and sins!

After the final step, which is unique to them, the Master and Benedict revert to Cassian in this conclusion. They borrow nearly their whole first sentence from him, whereas the second is original.

The spiritual ascent which began in fear thus ends with love which casts out fear (I Jn 4:18). Hinted at briefly in the text of the Institutes from which our Rules drew their inspiration, this passage from slavish fear to filial love is extensively analyzed in the eleventh Conference. It fits a pattern of ascent outlined by Clement of Alexandria and reproduced by many later authors, particularly by Saint Basil and by Evagrius Ponticus, Cassian's master.

Such perfect charity not only eliminates the fear of punishment, as the Letter of John already stated. According to Cassian, followed by our Rules, it does away with all toil: a person reverts to the state in which he was created and acts well effortlessly by virtue of the nature he has regained. Force of habit has a part to play in this recovery of our primeval sanctity, as the Master and Benedict note on their own part. Benedict sets himself off from his two forerunners by specifying that the object of love is 'Christ', not 'the Good', as we find in more abstract fashion in Cassian and the Master.

This picture of the marvelous effects of charity is less unreal than it appears. It doubtless represents no more than an ideal goal towards which we never cease tending here below. But granted that resistance to good and therefore the toil involved in performing it never disappear entirely before death, it is a fact of experience that love and its trail of virtues are a source of joy. Benedict had already observed this at the end of the Prologue. He now repeats it, following the Master and Cassian.

The last sentence, added by our authors to the text of the Institutes, is very important. It adds an important touch which was missing not only from Cassian, but also from all this long chapter of our Rules: the acknowledgment of the work of grace. If this has not yet been mentioned, even in the ample treatment of the first step, it is doubtless in order to give full force to the basic instructions regarding watchfulness without respite and ceaseless effort directed against sin, and to avoid letting the monk rely on a work of grace which, he might assume, can go on without his participation. But now a backward glance reveals this work of the Spirit. When did it begin? Our text does not say. Nothing prevents us from thinking, as faith assures us, that the Lord acted long before this final stage of the ascent; in fact, from its very beginning.

The 'vices and sins' which we avoided at the first step (7:12) are thus eliminated now by the purifying action of the Spirit. For he performs the purification, if we refer to the Master's text (that of Benedict, which omits the preposition ab, is not quite so clear). And through the Holy Spirit, too, the Lord is the source of charity and of its effects. The Spirit's purifying role emerges from the Old Testament (Ps 50:11-13; Ez 36:25-27) as from the New (I Co 6:11). His relation to the love poured out in the hearts of Christians appears likewise in Saint Paul (Rm 5:5; 2 Co 6:6).

Benedict ends his chapter and the entire spiritual portion of his Rule with this very fine sentence. The Master continues on at some length, describing the joys of paradise, for the ladder of humility is raised up to heaven and must lead to this eschatological goal. Benedict stops at the earthly summit of charity primarily because, here as elsewhere, he aims at brevity. He may also have been uncomfortable with the very down-to-earth description of the hereafter he found in the Master. Already, at the end of Chapter 4, he had cut a full and very colorful picture of the world to come down to a few words from Saint Paul. The present abridgment is still more radical, and does away completely with that horizon.

Benedict does not, therefore, lead his reader to the 'exaltation in heaven' announced in the preamble to the chapter. The unfolding of charity here below is the only goal he offers in his conclusion. In doing so he reverts to Cassian's presentation, which also stopped at perfect love without dealing with the hereafter. This is true at least of the passage from the Institutes which is the source of our Rules, for the first Conference deals admirably with the two ends of christian life, earthly and eschatological: purity of heart and the kingdom of heaven.

Cassian's tendency was to insist on the immediate and too often unrecognized goal through which we must pass in order to attain the ultimate end. The same emphasis can be found in Benedict's work. At the end of the Prologue, we may remember, he introduces into the Master's purely eschatological perspective, the hope of an 'inexpressible delight of love' experienced in this very life. Here the omission of the other Rule's depiction of heaven also has the effect, intentional or not, of bringing into sharper focus the wonders of perfect charity here below.

Abbreviations

RB:
The Rule of Saint Benedict. Latin-English edition: RB 1980. Collegeville, Minnesota, Liturgical Press, 1980. Critical latin edition by Adalbert de Vogüé and Jean Neufville, La Règle de saint Benoît, Sources chretiennes 181-186. Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1971-1972.
RM:
The Rule of the Master. PL 88. Critical latin edition by A. de Vogüé, La Règle du Maître, Sch 105-107. Paris: Cerf 1964-1965. English translation by Luke Eberle OSB, Cistercian Studies 6. Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1977.
AA:
SS Acta Sanctorum
ACW:
Ancient Christian Writers
CC:
Corpus Christianorum. Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols.
CSCO:
Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium
FCh:
Fathers of the Church series.
MGH:
Monumenta Germaniae Historica.
PL:
J. P. Migne, Patrologia cursus completus … series Latina. 221 volumes.
SCh:
Sources chrétiennes. Paris: Les Éditions du Cerf,

Works Cited

Cassian, John (+435)

Conf.: Conferences (Conlationes). PL 49; CSEL 13, 17; SCh 42, 54, 64. English translation by Boniface Ramsey OP, The Conferences of John Cassian, Cistercian Studies Series 136-138, and in the Nicene and Post Nicene Fathers, Series 2, volume 11.

Inst.: Institutes (De institutis coenobiorum). CSEL 13 (1886); SCh 109. Translation

Pass. Anast.: Passion of Saint Anastasia et al. H. Delehaye, Étude sur le Légendier romain BHL 1795, 118, 8093,401.

Pass. Seb.: Passion of Saint Sebastian. PL 17. AA SS Jan. 2:629-642.

Sextus (third century): Ench. Enchiridion (Sentences), translated by Rufinus. Edited and translated by Henry Chadwick, The Sentences of Sextus, Texts and Studies, New Series, 5. Cambridge 1959; and by R.A. Edwards and R.A. Wild, The Sentences of Sextus. Chico, California: Scholars Press, 1981.

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Personal Prayer in the Rule of Benedict

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