Browsing tag: St Benedict’s rule

  • A Message From The Dawn

    Henceforth I worked no more alone despite

    memories of bitterness, gall and slight.

    My companions the saints are helping now.

    Our coxswain sits facing us toward the bow.

    With these friends I strive, prized fellowship won.

    I am no more set against everyone

    no more shocked at my own imperfections

    no longer loathe to accept corrections.

    The common rule of the Church willingness

    to defer each to each with peace does bless.

    The eighth step of humility is that

    we reject the lure of the petty spat.

    In godly souls the Holy Spirit works

    to scrape off the pride that beneath still lurks.

    Not thirsting for praise, nor feeling holy

    training Christ’s body we transform slowly.

    Fragile skiff buffeted by fearsome gales

    bears on chilled scullers shivering betrayals.

    Ignored, mocked, shunned yet somehow not sinking

    salt on lips, light in eyes, our lives linking

    the wind against us, straining at the oars

    we struggle as one toward eternal shores.

    Nor vying, nor pandering, onward sent

    vast vistas opening, heavenward bent.

    Courage, free soul, fear not to venture through

    these worldly choppy seas with such a crew.

    Away from violence a gentle course chart.

    Against jealous currents strive loving heart.

    Jettison anger, rage, malice, discord.

    Hold fast love, peace, joy, your treasures on board.

    Bail out bad habits for dear love of life.

    Repair the breaches of splintering strife.

    Douse flames of slander that would sink this boat.

    Work together wisely and stay afloat.

    Cheerfully accept the stranger customs

    God’s stewards hand on until kingdom comes.

    We Christians do freely what is endorsed

    by Scripture through tradition Spirit sourced.

    Christ ventured sad into Gethsemane

    for joy set before him braved agony.

    God’s Son suffered long your soul to redeem.

    All children adopted, pull with the team.

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  • Cultivate Silence

    My children, “…diligently cultivate silence…” (Be still and know that I am God.) Rule of St. Benedict 42

    The spiritual discipline of silence has an age-old history. In the spectrum of spiritual disciplines, it belongs to the category of fasting. Exercises such as fasting–from food or from mental stimulus–not only benefit our physical and mental health, but also develop us spiritually. Over time, they help us reap a greater peacefulness, and increased fortitude to face whatever we must face in life.

    Silence need not be absolute to be beneficial. Even an ordinary person can practice it, even in a domestic context. You benefit physically from disciplining your consumption of food, and mentally from disciplining what you expose your mind to. This principle holds true even for people who are not seeking any sort of communion with God. It’s a basic fact of human health. Just as the person who cannot stop eating is showing signs of something amiss, so too the person who remains in a perpetual state of distraction. The one who cannot bear to be silent even for a few minutes is exhibiting a mental state akin to insatiable appetite.

    You may not learn to value silence until you’ve had the experience of caring for a screaming baby. The constant clamoring of children teaches us that the ability to stay quiet is a sign of maturity, whereas constant agitation and demands are the starting point of beginners in life.

    Silence as a spiritual discipline is not about finding a quiet environment, although of course this helps. But spiritual quiet is an interior state that is independent of whatever noise may be all around you. The discipline of silence has to do with the mental stimulus that you are free to regulate, not with all the noises that you do not control.

    Of course, there are people who should not engage in food restriction, because their bodies are in a fragile state. And people who are in a fragile mental state should not be seeking silence, especially if they are depressed. Some people need more nutrition, or more stimulus than they’ve been getting.

    But, if you are fit, the voluntary silencing of distractions can strengthen you spiritually. When you are at leisure to listen to something or not–music, or whatever else you normally turn to–simply refraining from this input can become a gesture by which you express to God your willingness to hear him. Even if you have nothing else to offer God, you always have this: the gift of yourself, expressed as the willing sacrifice of your attention, should he wish to speak.

    This doesn’t mean that when you practice silence, you will hear a supernatural voice. On the contrary, just as when you fast you can expect to feel hungry, when you are silent you can expect to hear nothing but the ordinary noises of your environment that you don’t normally pay attention to. If you have made yourself available, and you know very well that you have heard nothing divine, congratulations: this is a sure sign of your sanity. And you are in good company. The testimony of the saints through the ages is that they endured many long years of the silence of God before ever perceiving the voice of God.

    But the silence of God does not mean that he is absent. The God who sustains the universe at the atomic level sees and understands the effort you have made. Perhaps he will reveal himself in a spectacular way, but these interventions are rare and, by most accounts are terrifying when they occur. He doesn’t want to terrify or destroy you but to call you into harmony with himself. God knows what you can bear, because he designed you. He gave you the freedom to turn toward him, and when you exercise that freedom, even in a tiny way, he will surely draw near to the one attempting to draw nearer to him.

    On the way to hearing from God, you will have to face yourself. And for many people, the perpetual search for distraction is exactly the attempt to escape from themselves. In silence the troublesome thoughts you have been suppressing come into the forefront of your mind. Sorrows, anxieties and nagging perplexities come bubbling to the surface of your awareness. Rather than fighting them, hand them over to God in prayer: Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.

    Or perhaps you find yourself enduring a period of forced silence, not at all what you wished for. Since you cannot escape, you might as well offer God your willing attention. Who knows but he will open up a whole new path for you? All things work together for good for those who love God. He will communicate, probably not with signs and wonders to impress anyone else, but in ways meaningful to you. If you have gone wrong in some way, he will bring to your attention what you should correct.

    The God who made the universe is not a puppet on a string or a genie in a lamp. No one can summon him and make him perform. He speaks to whom he wishes and says what he means to say: when, where and how he chooses. But he also quietly draws near to humble hearts willing to set aside a moment of freedom in his honor. See if he does not repay you for your effort with some gracious gift of his own.

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  • Choose Your Destination

    Their law is what they like to do, whatever strikes their fancy.  Anything they believe in and choose, they call holy; anything they dislike, they consider forbidden (RB 1.8-9)

    So . . . if you’re thinking that this is a description of our culture today, actually it’s not.  This is Saint Benedict describing corrupt monks in the sixth century.  The mentality that surrounds us now was already an option then.  

    The monks that St. Benedict does approve of are the coenobitarum, which is Latin for koinos bios, which is Greek for common life, which is English for what I aim to discuss here. Life in community is the focus of St. Benedict’s Rule.  He invites us to choose community with our fellow human beings in this world, but it’s clear that the community depends on each individual’s commitment to follow Christ. St. Benedict’s Rule explicates the practical living out of “the communion of saints” of the Apostle’s Creed. This communion joins those on earth with those in heaven, but those on earth are the ones who need help trying to figure out how to live.

    There is another kind of monk that St. Benedict refers to: the eremitarum, which is the Latin transliteration of the Greek eremitēs, which means “one who lives in the desert” and gives us the English word hermit.  He himself lived as a hermit for three years.  He describes the hermit as ready with God’s help to grapple single-handed with the vices of body and mind (RB 1.5).

    When I first started to think of the housewife-mother as a domestic hermit, it was because of the sense of isolation I experienced.  I faced many struggles that didn’t seem to be addressed by the Church.  I don’t think my experience is unusual.  I think that many people flee the domestic life exactly because of the combination of exterior harassment and interior aridity that afflicts people whose vocation is neither respected by the world nor adequately addressed by religious authorities.

    My goal here is to provide some support for this double challenge of Christian families who are attempting both to sustain a personal spiritual vitality and also to create community within a materialistic, competitive culture.  I’m going to write from the perspective of someone who finds Christian goodness difficult and not always attractive.  If you don’t feel that you need help in this area, nothing I say will be of much interest.  But if you’re hanging on by your fingernails and thinking of letting go, I have a few tips for how to claw your way to survival.

    Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life” John 14:6.  But his way of life is one among many options, in the post-Christian West, and not the one that the cool people choose.  Many nice people are rushing off along other paths, and they certainly don’t intend to destroy themselves.  But Jesus insists that only his path leads to life: Matthew 7:13-14. If you’ve watched as dreadful consequences play out around you, it’s already clear that not all paths are equally good. But it’s not necessarily obvious either how to live out the life that Christ talks about.

    If your desired destination is eternal community with those you love and with your Creator, then you’re in the company of St. Benedict.  What follows will be my interpretation of some of the principles he wrote about.

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  • Silent Night, Holy Dawn

    Elegant Definition

    We absolutely condemn in all places any vulgarity. . . .  (Rule of St. Benedict 6.8)

    In the beginning, the Spirit of God hovered over the waters.  He spoke, and called forth formed things. To live a holy life is to move within these forms willingly.

    A holy life is an elegant life.

    The savor of elegance blends qualities of restraint and creativity.  Vulgarity glaringly lacks both.

    What is vulgarity?

    Vulgarity displays itself verbally in language; visually in esthetics.  Jokes can be crass, but so can architecture.  Clothing but also conversation can be indecent.  The vibe of vulgarity involves an absence of restraint along with a will to self-assertion, especially in a group.  Crude people do not call themselves into question, because everyone they notice is doing the same thing.  A sort of pushy smugness combines too much confidence with too little content in too callous a crowd.

    Profane people do not stop.  They stampede in the direction of a boundary and trample it deliberately, because they can.  It’s also the only thing they know how to do.  They tend to be the set in power at the moment.  

    With no respect for boundaries, there’s no sense of danger.  Uncouth people back off the edge of the Grand Canyon taking selfies.  They die on a ledge a few hours later because the lives of paramedics can’t be risked for anyone that graceless.  Their barbaric friends take more pictures, then go on their way just as before.

    Base people do not feel grief.  Mourning requires sensitivity to the border between life and death, and even this line of demarcation they do not perceive.  How could they?  All they’ve ever been taught is that they emerged randomly from nothing.  They fully expect to dissolve into nothing again, and not be missed.  Randomness is a brutal philosophy.  Its adherents show no pity.

    Elegant people are gracious

    In contrast, gracious people voluntarily honor boundaries: the lines between right and wrong; good and evil; being and nothing; beauty and ugliness.

    The antidote to vulgarity is humility.  If you treat other people with respect, you won’t commit obscenities, even though you make mistakes.  If you’re not trying to assert yourself over others, you’re not likely to infringe.  Minding limits, you engage your whole life in a practice of discipline.  This reeling in of yourself on the verge of a boundary is the essence of modesty.  It’s an active compliance that trains self-control, so you can live a graceful life.

    Elegant, definition: Elegance involves a sense of risk.  It’s a challenge to thread your way through without transgressing.  Who can do it?  But each attempt develops ability.  There are some who succeed beautifully.  We admire them and strive to imitate their technique.  Artistry is not the province of flippant violators.  Creativity does not ignore principles but rather applies them.

    For the Christian, beauty includes paradox.  The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.  The greatest was the servant of all.  The virgin gave birth.  The creator of the universe chose human parents who couldn’t afford anything better than an animal shed to shelter in.  Again and again, Christian teachings balance improbable truths on a fulcrum of miraculous possibility.

    As we make our way, we search for this narrow ridge of redemption.  We find it, and then our feet slip out from under us, and we slide off.  But there is someone to rescue us.  Holiness is not only practiced but bestowed.  Failure climbs back as resilience.

    Within the ways of God we exercise complete freedom to create.  He is the one who called us into being, gave us shape and endowed us with talents.  Vulgarity is not our destiny.

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  • Zip It

     I said, I have resolved to keep watch over my ways that I may never sin with my tongue.  I have put a guard on my mouth…. [Psalm 39:1-3]  (Rule of St. Benedict 6.1-6)

    Keep your mouth shut? It’s awfully hard to do.

    It’s especially difficult in a competitive environment, where talking is part of the game, and the loudest ones seem to win.  Across languages and cultures, human beings exercise dominance by imposing verbally over others.  The powerful say whatever they want.  Everyone else has to be careful, and whisper.  Sometimes speaking at all can feel like a fight for survival.  In this as in everything else, the Christian message is paradoxical.  Do you fear being completely ignored, if you keep quiet while everyone else has a say?  Then trust God, and hold your tongue.

    If you follow this teaching, expect to spend many hours of your life listening to other people declaim nonsense.  There are some who will talk at full speed as long as anyone will listen, never pausing for breath.  Curiously, though, as soon as you try to reply, the intense focus of which they are clearly capable dissolves into wandering attention and distracted mannerisms.  They have the energy to speak, but not to remain silent.  Talking requires much less effort than listening.

    Do not imitate them.  In the short term, they seem to dominate the group.  But in the long run, the verbose end up deleted.  Just because people have no choice but to hear you doesn’t mean they are persuaded.

    The goal is not to seal yourself into hermetic isolation, however.  There is a time to communicate what you think.  The monosyllabic sphinx is a tiresome companion too.  When people are sincerely interested in you, don’t weary them by making them guess what’s going on.  It’s on you to communicate in a coherent way.  But what thoughts are actually pouring forth from within you?

    For some, it’s perpetual dissatisfaction.  They can complain about anything, and they will.  If the temperature drops, they complain about the cold.  When it warms up, they complain about the heat.  If it rains, they complain about getting wet.  If it doesn’t, they complain on behalf of the parched vegetation. Keep your mouth shut? You wish you could tell them!

    Others spew malice.  They sidle up, masquerading as sociable.  Beware those who insinuate nasty things about people behind their backs, while attempting to draw you in with flattery.  As soon as you’re out of earshot, they’ll be hissing derogatory remarks about you too.  If you must comment on someone who’s absent, try to think of something positive to say.  Malicious gossips will learn to avoid you, because it repels them to hear others praised.

    Good words come from the good within you.  If only this were enough!  But the thing is that dishonesties characterize the social conventions of every society.  Cultures define themselves by the peculiar sorts of dissembling they require.  Figuring out what you’re not supposed to say is one of the biggest challenges of a foreign environment.  Some are so hateful that you live in fear of tripping a mine whenever you open your mouth.  You have to be careful about speaking the truth.

    It’s safest to refrain from asking questions.  But if you see someone making a potentially dangerous mistake, you must in good conscience speak out.  The other person will likely reject your advice.  Sometimes your intrusion will provoke such resentment that the chill will never thaw again.  But you’re not actually doing anything wrong, if you’re motivated by love.  It’s just that not everyone will want to hear it, even if you’ve got it right, even though you care.

    There are also, inevitably, moments of personal struggle, when you simply must express how you feel, whatever the consequences.  Every human being needs friends.  When another person hears and understands, there’s an enormous relief, quite apart from solving any problem.  Just remember that those who love you enough to listen also need support from you.  Listening is a mutual comfort.

    Sometimes in acute distress we lash out at the person closest to us.  This is human, but it’s also terribly unfair.  Pull yourself together and apologize.  Even in the most loving, most intimate relationships, you’ve got to maintain a proportion of courtesy.  Honesty, like vinegar, is unbearable on its own.  More oil than vinegar goes into a salad dressing, and the same is true for relationships, even close ones.  Try to balance your honesty with some balm for the feelings of the other person.

    Cherish those who care enough about you to listen.  And with strangers, keep your mouth shut.  You won’t get into trouble for what you don’t say.

     

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  • Trust And Obey

    The first step of humility is unhesitating obedience, which comes naturally to those who cherish Christ above all.…  [T]hey carry out the superior’s order as promptly as if the command came from God himself.…  This very obedience, however, will be acceptable to God and agreeable to men only if compliance with what is commanded is not cringing or sluggish or half-hearted.…  (Rule of St. Benedict 5.1-14)

    Sheer cussedness is not a Christian virtue, even if you are from Texas.  None of the translators feature “stubbornness” anywhere in the lists of fruits of the Spirit.  “Perseverance” comes close, but perseverance implies that you’re going in the right direction.  Going the other way just because it’s your way is called “perverse,” and that’s not in there either.

    If you can’t tell the difference between persevering and perverse, ask yourself when was the last time you were wrong.  If you can’t remember ever being wrong, or admitting it, you’ll belong in the short word crowd.

    Watch out, because perverse can slide into “perverted” when you reject all correction, on principle.  The day comes when even your instincts are destructive, and so are all your friends.  That population does not perceive that the impulse carrying them over the cliff is their own ill will.

    Rebellion gets attention, but rebellion for its own sake only tears down existing systems.  The perpetual objector doesn’t contribute anything positive.  At school, at home, at work, waiting in line and anywhere else, the person who just won’t do what anyone asks makes life tedious for everyone else.  The worst part of leadership, when you are the one in charge is dragging along the grudging trudger.

    All human authority rests on the authority of God (Romans 13:1-7).  Where a derivative power contradicts the sustaining source, we surely should question that rickety racket.  So do open your eyes, prick up your ears and wrinkle your nose before going along with anyone.  But on the other hand, you can’t expect to develop sensitivity to divine cues, which are spiritual, if you refuse to heed human instructions, which you understand just fine.  Obedience to human authority is a way of expressing obedience to God’s authority, when the one does not contradict the other.

    This is why the goal of the Christian cannot be to rebel and get away with it.  The Christian goal must be to establish a just society, so that there’s no moral dilemma opposing obedience to God and obedience to authority.  In all ordinary occasions of everyday action, obedience to intermediate authorities is the Christian default.  Not snide reluctance but willing participation is what we offer to those in positions of responsibility.  If you are habitually helpful, when a truly moral dilemma comes along, most authority figures will be well-disposed to listen to you.  Even tyrants run low on energy and resources.  They lean on the person they can count on.  Ten to one they would rather accommodate your objection on that day, since you frame it in a respectful way.

    And if they refuse to listen, you will be able to mount an effective protest only if you can work with other people.  Working with people always does end up requiring systems of authority, hierarchy and delegation, because perfect unanimity in all things is a divine quality, not a human one.  Deferring to each other is the closest we can get to harmony.

    Of course, the ultimate question is whether we can trust God, to want to obey him at all.  In order to trust someone’s leadership, you need to feel confident both in the goodness and in the competence of the person in charge.  God is good, but is he good enough?  It’s the longing for goodness–to find it somewhere in the mess, to retrieve whatever’s left of it from annihilation, to set it back on its feet–that keeps driving us to throw in our lot with someone who does not guarantee that we will not suffer.

    We do accomplish something.  It is worthwhile.  Risks are worth taking for a life worth living.

    Obedience is trust taking that risk.  We trust the God who created the universe to figure out how to fix it.  He has a plan.  No one else does.  Christ is the only one offering redemption.  He is the one who climbs into the rubble of the world to rescue those trapped in the wreckage of ruined lives.  We follow him into dangerous places because we trust him to lead us through death itself into eternal life.

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  • Redemption

    Place your hope in God alone.  If you notice something good in yourself, give credit to God, not to yourself, but be certain that the evil you commit is always your own and yours to acknowledge. (Rule of St. Benedict 4. 41-43)

    Glaciers are receding, and at first the mountains they leave behind are as bare as the moon.  But up the stark cliffs the lichen first, then the wild sweet peas, then the alders grow.  Evergreen forests, moose and bear come to thrive on slopes relieved of eons of ice.  Grizzlies, bald eagles and salmon multiply, given a habitat and half a chance.  What about us, can we come back?

    It’s a spiritual ice age, these days.  Cool people tell us that we emerged randomly from nothing, will soon dissolve into nothing, and that no one cares anyway.  They say we’re helpless to control our own impulses; cannot alter our destructive habits; might as well yield to what’s killing us.  Give up and despair.  Do violence to yourself.  End it.

    But the Church holds onto the warmth of love and holds out for the thrill of life lived in harmony with our Creator.  The Christian hope is redemption.

    Redemption is a process, sometimes a slow one.  Glaciers and fingernails grow at about the same speed. So do souls.  But redemption is a transformation we willingly engage in.  We surrender the parts of ourselves that are mean or petty, that clash with the character of our Creator.  The God who formed the universe and who endows each tiny creature with its own particular beauty also called each one of us into being.  He wants to pull us back from the brink, but he gives us our freedom.  We participate willingly or not at all.

    First we must reconcile with the source of goodness, in order to develop goodness ourselves. Then we let our old identity die away even as a new identity forms within us. The new person gets up every day and struggles to do the right thing. It’s not a futile struggle. It’s the exertion of a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. Every decision you make against evil, for good participates in your eternal formation. What you will be has not yet been revealed, but your new form will be glorious. Look around and observe glimpses of glory. God is always at work everywhere for good. Contemplate what he has already done.

    Right now you may feel slimy, constrained and exhausted. The effort is part of the process. You get stronger as you try. This is because you’re not just achieving an objective. You’re becoming someone. Morphing from one state of being to a new one, temporarily you have fewer powers, not more. The force of rage has dissipated, because you experience peace within. Your new movements may be awkward at first, but soon enough you’ll stretch wings and be flying. It’s a whole new experience of reality. No regrets for the dry husk left behind.

     

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  • Endure Persecution For The Sake Of Justice

    Endure persecution for the sake of justice (Matthew 5:10).  (RB 4. 33)

    Brace yourself.  To endure implies time, maybe a long time.  Persecution is not a one-off, an insult from a passing stranger, a violation of a specific right on a particular occasion.  Persecution involves systematic, sustained, deliberate attack, targeting you.  So we’re talking about a long ordeal with no end in sight.

    In such a time, when there’s nothing to see but darkness, we fix our eyes on our purpose, the thing we love more, the justice without which we’d have no reason to keep going even if things were easy.  This is justice in the large sense.  That is to say, righteousness.  Righteousness simply means doing the right thing.  If everyone did the right thing, justice would flourish everywhere.  There are many opportunities to exercise it, in any human life.  It’s the thing you do because it’s right, before you realize you’ll be punished for it.

    Perhaps you speak out honestly, and the person in authority doesn’t want to hear it.  Someone pulls you aside, talks down to you, and gives you to understand that you are not at the level of those who have interesting contributions to make.  You are at the level of those who shut up and listen.  Fall in line, and maybe you’ll get somewhere.

    So you try.  And you fail.  You have no knack for nonsense phrases.  You keep searching for a way to express the truth that will get someone to listen.  But there is none, not where you are.

    For example, when you walk through the door, no one sees you.  You greet them, but they don’t remember having met you.  They don’t seem to hear you when you speak.  You don’t exist for them, and nonexistence is a terrible strain.  It melts your whole sense of self.

    What’s wrong with you?  Why can’t you just get along?  What is it that prevents you from fitting in?

    It’s the element of righteousness within your character. The justice of God is embodied in you. It’s the stuff you’re made of.

    And so you pray, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” because now you realize there’s a difference. Tension between earth and heaven is heating up. Where on earth is God’s will being done?

    Within you.

    God is truth, and the Spirit of Truth cannot abide lies, nor dwell within the liar. So you feel sick and sicker at hollow words you can no longer repeat. You can’t collude with what repels you.

    But when the heat is on, and the blows are hammering, something within you glows to life. Most surprisingly, the thing that should break you actually strengthens you. Your whole substance responds and alters. You don’t recognize yourself anymore, and neither do the people who know you. Sparks fly. You lose friends.

    It should not be so painful to do right. Hold out for the way things should be. Something in you does not belong in this world. Glow brighter. The darkness is very dark, and what you don’t see is that the only light in the room is emanating from you.

    You take the plunge to escape, because that’s the only path forward. When the steam clears, you’re still in one piece, but you feel defeated. You do have a future ahead of you, but it’s not the one you had planned. Not only your shape but your elemental structure has changed. Impurities are gone. Alloys are added. There’s no going back to what you were before. Not now, not ever.

    The One who is forging your character knows what he means to make of you, and your story isn’t over yet. Some day the form of you will find its function. You may still have further refinements to undergo. God will make your suffering count for justice.

     

     

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  • Love Your Enemies

    Love your enemies (Matthew 5:43-48; Luke 6: 27-35)

    (Rule of Saint Benedict 4. 31)

    Loving your enemies sounds like a nice idea until you actually have enemies yourself.

    When someone asked Jesus, “who is my neighbor?” he responded with the parable of the Good Samaritan, which turns the question on its head. We are to be neighbors even to inveterate cultural enemies. But no one ever asked Jesus, “who is my enemy?” This, it seems, we are left to figure out.

    An enemy is not merely someone with whom you disagree. You can disagree passionately with friends on all sorts of topics, as long as you have something more important in common.

    Nor is an enemy an opponent in a game. An opponent recognizes the same boundaries you do and does not harm you in real life.

    An enemy is not even necessarily someone with whom you are in conflict. Sometimes the angry person turns out not to be a beast. If you give the benefit of the doubt, engage, and communicate what’s going on from your perspective, sometimes you find that the enemy is a neighbor after all.

    An enemy, in brief, is someone who acts deliberately on the intent to harm you. After you’ve attempted to resolve a conflict peacefully, the person who stabs you in the back can fairly be called an enemy.

    And this is the person we’re called to love.

    A Christian concept of love is essentially voluntary. We know that God is love. But we also know that God is not our slave. So, neither are we enslaved to those we love. Love ends where coercion begins.

    Therefore, if you are going to love anyone, first you must be free. More to the point: you must be free from the enemy in question. If your enemy is more powerful than you are, escape is the first order of business. Extricate yourself, and then work on making new friends, because even evil people tend to avoid attacking someone who has relationships with others.

    If you are, then, free to love, the question becomes, what is love?

    We know that “the Lord disciplines those he loves” (Hebrews 12:6; Proverbs 3: 12). Therefore a Christian concept of love includes setting boundaries and enforcing standards. Love sets aside the self-interest of the moment for the good of the other person. But the good of the other person is not always what that person demands. When someone wants something that is not good, you say no, for love’s sake.

    The most terrible enemies are the ones you always loved, and who, you thought, also loved you. Those are the ones who break your heart. There’s nothing quite like the distress of loving the antagonist who once was dear. The world roils with enemies who are exes.

    Whether the situation is tragic or merely wearisome, loving any sort of enemy requires a combination of efforts. First, you must finesse your way out of range of whatever harm your enemy might inflict. Further, you must refrain from inflicting whatever revenge is within reach. Ultimately, you must make the extra effort to be the sort of person your enemy is not.

    Your enemy is enraged, but you must be respectful. Your enemy is vindictive, but you must be peacable. Your enemy is selfish, but you must be generous. Your enemy is false, but you must be true.

    Nothing anyone can say will ever make this easy, but the Holy Spirit can make it possible.

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  • Bear Injuries Patiently

     

    Bearing injuries patiently is not a sign of weakness.  It’s a sign of goodness.  Only the strong bear up.  Only the good restrain themselves when evil beckons, because evil is not their master.

    This isn’t about defending yourself in the moment of attack.  You have the right to self-defense.  This is about the aftermath: now what?

    Weak people fall apart and lash out at everyone around them as they disintegrate.  For a brief moment, they enjoy an experience of power: the power to destroy.  There’s something appealing about power, even when you know it’s fleeting, even when you know it’s hateful.  The Church calls this appeal the glamor of evil.  As Christians, we reject it, along with Satan and all his works.

    Strong people hold themselves together, hold onto what they know is good and hold out for what they know is right.  Sometimes they hang on by their fingernails.  As Christians, this is the character we aspire to, and God knows it’s hard.  Sometimes the path leads straight up the face of a cliff.

    You can be on the right path and still fall and get hurt.  Getting hurt doesn’t mean that God is against you.  It means that there’s an inherent risk to living at all.  You were thrust into existence without being consulted.  But now that you’re here, you’re free to venture your all for the good.  The promise of Christ is that ultimately your venture will pay off.  Death is not the end.

    People who have only this world to live for figure that nothing they do matters.  But the Christian message is that everything you do matters, even the tiny things.  Even a small creature can live in harmony with its Maker.  He is always at work everywhere for good, and he invites you to participate in that work, wherever you are, whoever you are.

    You’re free to reject his offer.  You can rage against your Creator.  He allowed evil into this world, and now you can increase the sum of evil.

    But know that if you choose for what is right and true and good, God is on your side, even when everything else in the universe seems to be against you.  And he promises that the pain will last only as long as this life.  You will emerge into peace for eternity.

    That leaves now, and everything we have to face in this moment in time.  Sometimes we can’t understand why God does what he does.  Why does he hurt us?  Why make us stay in our place in a corner with a cone around our necks?  We didn’t do anything wrong.  

    Heave a big sigh and wait: maybe something good will come along next.

    Don’t fret.  Don’t chew on your hurt and make it worse.  Save your energy for the good you can do.  If the path before you is clear, and if you have the strength, get up every day and keep going.  Be patient.  Bear up.  There’s no quick fix to any complex problem, and you will encounter many problems along the way.

    When you’ve done everything you can do, then stand firm and wait for God himself to act on your behalf.  If you can’t stand up anymore, sit down.  If even sitting is too much, lie still and be who you are where you are.  There’s a time to let people who love you take care of you.  You’re not alone in this.  Fix sad eyes on your Maker.  Remain alert to his call.

    An injury can happen in an instant.  The healing takes a long, long time.  It saps all the strength you’ve got.

    Healing is your job now.  We want you back.

     

    Do not repay one bad turn with another 1 Thessalonians 5:15; 1 Peter 3:9.  Do not injure anyone, but bear injuries patiently.  (Rule of St. Benedict 4. 29-30)

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