Being Benedictine

December 2023 Oblate Reflections

Source: The Oblate Life, edited by Gervase Holdaway, OSB, 2008

Men and women who have made monastic vows, called monks, practice stability by committing to a specific monastery. “The monk is an archetype, whether we live in a monastery or not, we have a sense of what it means to be a monk. We long to be together with God in solitude.” (Fr. Mauritius Wilde, OSB)

Being Benedictine as an oblate is making a commitment to a monastery, living the core values of obedience, conversion of life, and stability while following the Rule of St. Benedict as monks “in the world,” meeting monthly to practice Lectio Divina and discussing a spiritual reading. In the age of Zoom meetings (in which I, gratefully, participated this month), it is a good reminder that it is the monastery that I am drawn to—to the sacred rhythm of prayer and respect for silence, the theme of our discussion (December 2023.)

“If we are to learn about silence and cultivate its art form, the monastery is the first place to visit, for it is within the ancient tradition of monasticism, that we can begin to understand the relevance and the need for silence as a discipline, and a way of life. It is highly relevant that the very first word of the rule of Saint Benedict is listen.”—Susie Hayward, Silence, The Oblate Life

In silence, we can be transformed. “We will begin to see the ‘world’ differently, our breathing will become more rhythmical, surrounding color will intensify and brighten and our eyes will see more clearly and with greater perception.” (Hayward) We become more attentive. We notice the details around us, and we notice what is happening within us.

I had this experience during a contemplative prayer retreat over 20 years ago, my first visit to the monastery and retreat center that has become such an important part of my life. Even during our meals, we sat in silence, which contributed to a heightening of my senses—the quiet and stillness provided a backdrop through which I appreciated the color and tastes of ordinary foods—lettuce, tomatoes, bread, pasta, butter, milk.  It was pure ecstasy to look, touch, and taste—to interact with my food.  This sentiment—the sensitivity to physical, tangible cues—carried over into watching fish swim in the pond, grasshoppers jump from one station of the cross to the next, a candle flickering.  All things seemed to be created for me.  Every movement, color, taste, and sensation seemed special, whereas just days before it was ordinary.

Silence magnifies an experience. The practice of silence helps cultivate attentiveness to others and to how God is working in our lives. Thomas Merton writes, “By learning to listen… we can find ourself engulfed in such happiness that it cannot be explained: the happiness of being at one with everything in that hidden ground of Love for which there can be no explanations.” This type of interior silence must be cultivated. Visiting a monastery where there is silence can help, but one can create physical spaces in our own homes to remind us that times of silence are needed.

Hayward writes that “without silence, God has no voice.” No doubt silencing the noise of our daily lives can help us be more aware of the divine—in creation, in others, in words we read, in the thoughts that run through our mind, and in the story we tell ourselves. Indeed, silence allows us to experience the sacred, but many of us have felt God working, “God’s voice,” through the written or spoken words of others. In discussion, we wonder—do we really need absolute silence to hear God?

Perhaps Hayward means that we need to silence ourselves—to shut our mouths, to let go of thoughts and stories, and to be truly present wherever we find ourselves. If we are in conversation with another, there is sound, not silence, but we can practice interior silence by deeply listening to the other and standing witness to another’s story. It is important to remember that the first word in the Rule of St. Benedict is “Listen.” We must practice silence, both in words and thoughts, in the presence of the divine, including others.

Hayward writes about “the experience of feeling the total ‘presence’ of another person, in such a profound way that ‘in that moment’ we will have felt absolutely heard, totally cared for and completely understood.” What a gift to be heard and to hear others without the noise in our heads! She continues, “Listening reflectively in this attentive and empathic way allows each person to respond to the other fruitfully.”

God is working in this ‘total presence,’ the compassionate listening to another’s story. May we practice silence, to listen, see, and fully experience the humility of unknowing all that we think we know, to experience a oneness with our Creator, with creation, and with all those whom we share both.  

© Jodi Blazek Gehr, Being Benedictine Blogger