Wisdom From an Ancient Rule for Monks
by Basil Damukaitis
A Rule Written for Monks is for Everyone
The Rule of St. Benedict is the document that governs the lives of Benedictine monks. Although written by a 6th century Roman, Benedict possessed a remarkable understanding of human nature which makes the rule an ideal guide for living for just about anyone, even if you're not a monk. I should know, I tried both. After almost 10 years as a monk, I discovered that the rule is just as much of a guide for seculars living outside of the monastery as it is for monks living inside a monastery.
Community Is a Necessary Component
Community living is actually an essential component in a monk's search for God. That's in part why he comes to the monastery in the first place. The Benedictine monk seeks God in community, under a rule and an abbot. Those are really the only requirements for entering a monastery. Benedict rejects the stereotype of the monk as a loner. The eremetical life, that is, the life of hermits who live in complete solitude is not the type of life Benedict wants for his followers. He sees others as another way God speaks to the monk.
The same is true for the rest of us who aren't monks. Other people in my life can be the vox Dei, or the voice of God, calling me, reminding me, challenging me in ways that I might not have been aware of otherwise.
Most monks will tell you that dealing with their brethren charitably, can be the most challenging part of a monk's life. Dealing with others is the most challenging part of anyone's life! It's easy to get along with people on a good day, when you've had enough sleep, you're feeling well, and having a great day. That's anyone. Monks are no different. They're not angels. Monks aren't infused with supernatural abilities or powers.
But there are a lot of days when I just don't feel "at the top of my game."
I may not feel well,
or have gotten enough sleep.
I might have received some bad news that put me in a short mood or bad temper. There are also just those times in my life that I'm going through a rough phase whether it's getting older, or reassessing who I am.
That sort of thing.
Being human means constantly examining myself because I have an ability to reflect on my own existence.
When I'm having one of "those days" others can easily set me off for any number of reasons.
Having been on both sides of the wall, as it were, I found it easier to live as a secular in the world because on those bad days, I can avoid people, flip on the TV, or find any number of distractions. But that makes it all that much more difficult to grow as a human being.
But for the monk, his options are limited. He can't run from or avoid difficult moments or difficult monks. In a monastery, you're guaranteed to run into the same difficult monk again. There's not many places to hide in a monastery.
It's almost ironic. The word monk comes from the term monos meaning, alone. In Benedict's monasteries, solitude is only part of the monk’s life. Most of his time is spent in community, with others. In fact Benedict calls his monastery a "school of the Lord's service." The community is a testing ground for how much I've grown spiritually, socially, and psychologically.
Community Is a Testing Ground
When it comes right down to it, my interaction with others shows how much I've integrated prayer into every other area of my life. After all, I'm able to control myself, but I can't control others. A monk just can't say, "today I'm going to avoid people." It doesn't work that way in a monastery.
The psychologist and priest, Adrian Van Kaam describes three areas of relating that exist in every human person.
He calls them:
the spiritual self,
the social self,
and the psychological self.
My relationship to God is the spiritual self.
How I relate to others he identifies as "the social self."
And the psychological self is how I relate to me. In other words, it's that little voice inside me where I think and reflect about who I am, what I think of myself etc.
Psychologists call this "the ego self."
Van Kaam uses a Venn diagram to illustrate the relationship between the three. The small area where all three circles overlap he calls, "the integrated self." That’s where a person is "centered". Van Kaam's point is to live and act from my center because that's where I am the most authentic.
I am authentic when I am aware of the way all three manners of relating affect one another. When I treat others poorly simply because I'm having a bad day (for whatever reason, I'm pissed because I didn't get what I wanted, I feel fat, whatever) is not living from my center. But when I acknowledge that I'm having a bad day because I feel fat, and realizing this I'm extra careful how I talk to others, that's being centered. I am acknowledging that one area is affecting the other.
Living from one's center doesn't mean I'm acting perfectly. It just means I'm fully aware of why I act and think as I do. Van Kaam's book, Am I Living a Spiritual Life? is a great read and I highly recommend it.
I'll never forget as a monk, I walked into my classroom to begin teaching my class. One of the boys really set me off and I told them all to shut up and sit down. I heard one of them blurt out, "watch it! He's in a bad mood today!" Frankly, I never thought I was in a bad mood until he said it! But at that moment I realized, yep, I'm in a bad mood!" I then did the hard work of figuring out why I'm in a bad mood, and yes part of it was a bad night's sleep among other things. Point being, it was my social self that was affected by my psychological self.
My authentic self is where I lay the ground to allow my spiritual self or my relationship with God to affect how I view myself and others. It's also where I let my relationship to others consciously affect my prayer life and me, personally, and so on.
From experience, I'll say this, there wasn't a day that went by in the monastery when I wasn't challenged by other monks to “live from my center.” Monks are brutally honest, straightforward people. In community, they challenged me in small ways and big ones. The big ways are easy. Frankly, you usually see those moments coming. Being challenged in small ways is like death by pinpricks! You don't see them coming, and they come at you more often than you like or expect.
Relationally, I found the same to be true in life outside of the monastery. The only difference is that in the monastery, as I noted, it was virtually impossible to run away from challenges and difficulties without facing them again, very quickly! After all, life in a monastery is very close living. We worked together, prayed together, lived together, and even recreated together. So no matter what or who I tried to avoid, it wasn’t for very long.
An Organizational Guide for Spiritual Communities
Quentin Skrabek, PhD, an industrial management expert, described Benedict’s rule as not so much a spiritual guide, but an organizational guide for spiritual communities. (Introduction, xiv, St. Benedict’s Rule for Business Success, Purdue University Press, 2003). In other words, Benedict wrote a practical rule of life in order for a group of monks to get along and even thrive both as individuals and as a community. From this aspect, the rule is wildly successful because Benedictine monks became the innovators who created the basis of Western Culture and civilization. Benedictine monks invented new farming and fishing methods, developed accounting practices, and created and influenced techniques used in art, architecture, and music, all under a wildly successful governance style that is now enjoying a resurgence.
The Importance of Others
If the Covid pandemic taught anything, it’s how important human interaction is to my well-being. Community can take many shapes. I can belong to my family community, work community, social community, and all at the same time.
Dr Tim Levine, PhD from the University of Alabama even observed in a post-Covid society:
“There is some interesting and important research on the effects of social isolation on communication,” Levine said. “One impact is that, the less contact we have with other people, the more we become suspicious of other people. This can make others more defensive and lead to a vicious spiral where isolation leads to suspicion, which begets defensiveness, which reinforces the suspicion and leads to further isolation as a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
Benedict and Van Kaam might explain it this way; that since my social self affects my psychological self, of course I can become defensive. Defensiveness affects not just how I see others, but how I view myself. I know when I'm being defensive because I grapple with questions of my own self-worth which are usually due to my own insecurities. That in turn is also going to affect how I communicate with God in prayer. I can feel abandoned by God, cheated by God, or ignored or unheard by God.
In other words, as my novice master used to say, "you are who you are, 24/7."
God speaks to me through others, sometimes even more loudly than he might speak to me in prayer.
The Rock Tumbler
My novice master compared human interaction in the monastery to a toy that was popular when I was a kid, the rock tumbler.
Remember the toy that was a drum driven by a motor?
You would throw rocks in it with some oil and it would spin and spin for hours.
As they bumped into each other over time the rocks become smooth and shiny. That's why Benedict called the monastery a "school of the Lord's service." We help each other in striving for holiness simply by living with one another.
Difficult Relationships Teach Us the Most About Ourselves
I've found that difficult relationships teach me more about myself than most any other experience. They also seem to be times when God speaks to me the the loudest.
There was an older monk who just hated my guts. Well, he didn't like me. I wasn't too keen on him either. But he taught me more about myself than anyone else. Reluctantly I might say, he challenged me to grow in ways I never thought I needed! Everyone has their issues, and I thought I knew all mine, but this monk reminded me there were a few more things I needed to work on that I wasn't aware of! That's the beauty of community life. Just when I think I have myself figured out... there's more! There's a great quote from an author I can't recall, "I thank you for your presence in my life, you have encouraged me to go beyond myself." That was Brother M (I won't use his real name!)
Brother M
Br. M was an older guy and the bursar of the monastery. It seemed almost as if he enjoyed jumping down my throat every chance he got, even for no reason. If I was a minute late in turning in the candle money, he'd search me out and say, "where's the candle money?" It's not like we were making a whole lot of money from people lighting candles in our church either. Every time I stepped out of line or he thought I was stepping out of line, he'd run to the superiors. A loud laugh would be enough to have him complaining to the abbot.
I sincerely did everything I could to get along with the guy.
My greeting "good morning Brother M" was met with a frown or no reaction at all.
If I felt I annoyed or ticked him off, I'd immediately apologize.
But his response was always a cold stare of indifference.
To make matters worse, it seemed I was the only monk on the receiving end of his treatment.
I thought it was because I was a novice or the new guy.
But I noticed he treated monks below me in seniority better than me.
Frankly, it hurt.
At one of the rare community celebrations where alcohol was served,
I tried to gain points with him. So I made him a Manhattan, his favorite cocktail.
His only reaction was to take it, and offer a cold and perfunctory “thank-you.”
Nothing seemed to work.
The Dreaded Fartnose
This went on for three years until it finally came to a head.
We were at lunch in the monastic refectory,
the only meal where talking was permitted.
As he finished his meal he got up,
and in front of the entire community yelled,
"where's the candle money?"
I wasn't expecting it,
and I certainly wasn’t prepared to respond to it.
After all, most of our "encounters" were one-on-one, in his office or when no one else was around.
This was in front of the entire community, in the refectory, where we ate.
What really sucked is that I was even in a relatively good mood too!
He really set me off.
You know how it is when you're having a great day until out of the blue someone comes up to you and unexpectedly really lets you have it?
Well, that was it!
I just went off on the guy and gave it right back.
At that moment I didn't care if they threw me out or not, I was that mad.
In front of the entire community I yelled,
"listen you old sonofabitch…
maybe if your prostate wasn't the size of a basketball,
and weren't always running to the bathroom you'd be in your office so I could give you the damn money!"
The community was silent and pretended to ignore the confrontation.
Br. M, taken by surprise, and in frustration yelled, "you…you….you fartnose!"
I kept from laughing since that's the best he could come up with.
(I honestly wondered if that was ever really "a thing?" I mean, fartnose? Come on!)
Despite the non-reaction of other monks, I found out later that some did find it funny.
In fact, the next morning an anonymous monk posted a hand-written sign on my cell door that read, ”Lair of the Dreaded Fartnose!"
But an interesting thing happened after that incident,
he started to get a little friendlier.
I tested the waters a couple months after it happened and stopped in his office just to ask how he was doing.
He responded with a quick, "fine, thank you!"
Ahhh, I thought.
He was being nice.
As time went on our encounters got slightly longer.
After a few months went by, we were even able to hold a friendly conversation.
Eventually a few years later, when I told him that I decided I was not going to take solemn vows and that I was leaving the monastery,
he said that he was genuinely sorry to see me go.
I even got permission to go out to lunch with him before I left.
That is the magic of the monastery, and that is the beauty of community living.
Regardless whether a community is a work environment,
a class,
a group of friends,
or a social situation,
as long as there are opportunities to engage other human beings, there are always opportunities to grow and deepen my relationship with God.
What Brother M Taught Me
Br. M taught me a lot about myself,
whether I liked it or not,
And whether I wanted to or not!
I learned that my flip remarks and sarcasm were annoying because it came off as cocky, presumptuous, and prideful.
He took them as a personal affront.
But sticking with it, rather than dismissing him,
I learned what I had to change.
One of the many lessons I took from the monastery is to not run away from difficult people.
Perhaps more than others, they have the most to teach me.
But the only way to figure it out is to stick with it and not give up.
My job wasn't to figure Br. M out.
My job was to figure out what God was asking of me.
I could have rightfully blamed it all on him because objectively he was acting like an ass.
But that didn't absolve me from the subtle and not-so-subtle areas in which I needed to grow as a human being.
I took that situation with me when I left the monastery.
When I started my professional career and encountered a difficult client or coworker, I learned to never to give up,
and do a thorough examination of conscience to understand what I need to change first.
Br. M also taught me about my relationship with God.
When prayer seems to produce nothing,
as if God is ignoring me,
in reality God was responding.
But it was I who had to change first to hear more clearly God’s voice.
In order to do that I had to look beyond my anger, even if it was righteous anger.
I had to look beyond hurt feelings,
beyond self-pity.
I learned how deeply ingrained in me, was a need to be liked, at any cost.
Wanting to be liked isn't a bad thing.
But when my need to be liked causes me to try to control others by "making it happen," there’s a problem
What I never realized too, was to Br. M, I became even even more annoying because I appeared either insincere, or just too damn pushy because I wanted him to meet my timeline of forgiveness or just getting along.
I never realized my behavior can cause others to feel manipulated.
I also learned that I can't change myself for others.
I have to be genuine in my desire for deeper conversion to God.
That begins by being more genuine,
which requires honesty and brutal self-reflection.
If I judge myself by how successful I am with others, I'll never be happy.
The only way to know my genuine self is to live and act out of my center, where the spiritual, social, and psychological self come together.
That's why we need other people, community.
Basil Damukaitis is a freelance copywriter and can be reached at basil@hubbardstreetmarketing
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