Feast of St. Benedict - Thursday, July 11, 2019

Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY

Br. Randy Greve, OHC
Feast of St. Benedict - Thursday, July 11, 2019

Proverbs 2:1-9
Philippians 2:12–16
Luke 14:27–33

Click here for an audio version of the sermon.

The beginning and the end of Jesus’ words here, taking up the cross and following and then giving up possessions, form the theological source of two great themes integral to monastic life.  St. Benedict emphasizes both of these practices in the rule, especially the necessity of humility and the prohibitions against private ownership.  St. Benedict does not believe, as is sometimes the critique, that thinking rightly of ourselves is wrong or that material goods are evil.  Rather, these practices are set within the larger vision in the rule of running toward life, toward our heavenly home, and therefore of necessity away from the illusions of status and security that claim our identity and distort that path.  For Benedict, entrance into the Christian journey in a monastic vocation is a move from an old life based on hierarchy and power to a life of self-sacrificial service and identification with a community.  A particular kind of community that has transcended the empire-based dynamic of oppressor over oppressed and has chosen to live in egalitarian brotherhood.  The only identity that matters in the monastery is brother.  The connection between this gospel and the rule is fairly obvious in these two sayings – they become in Benedict’s hands related to obedience and stability.  Jesus’ images in the middle, of estimating to build a tower and considering battle, inform Benedict’s theology of discernment and formation and are closely related to the vow of conversion.  I would like to dig down into the way in which the inclusion of these two metaphors within the discussion of discipleship illumines life in a community and under a rule.

Early in Jesus’ ministry, his simple call to follow him is a stage of exploration and testing.  There are hints in the synoptic gospels made explicit in the Gospel of John that not everyone who began to follow kept following to the end.  Time goes on and the nature of discipleship unfolds.  The radicality of what was asked turned many off of Jesus.  As the gospels progress, Jesus is more and more explicit about the need to move from exploration to commitment.  He is more interested in people following him with conscious intention and fidelity than with large crowds of spectators merely waiting to see a miracle.  As Luke points Jesus toward Jerusalem and the climactic showdown that leads to his crucifixion, the stakes get higher, the conditions more radical, and the urgency of allegiance absolute.  In these middle chapters of his gospel, Luke alternates between encounters and parables of God’s mercy toward the sinful and outcast and sharp criticism of those whose allegiance to prejudice and power to the exclusion of the neediest has hardened their hearts and frozen their compassion.  The disciple is to be a free person; free of family obligations, free of possessions, free of agenda, free to offer their whole selves and enter into a way that resists the ways of empire.  The first blushes of excitement and wonder must give way to the reality of the cost of discipleship.  Between today and the ultimate, joyful assurance of God’s reign in the end will be suffering.  The disciples come to see that Jesus is more than a typical rabbi, more than a miracle worker, but one who will model self-giving even unto death and ask disciples to be willing to follow in those steps in commitment if not in actuality.

The images of building and battle come in the form of rhetorical questions.  Jesus likes to pair together what we can read as the allegory of the foundation of our lives and our response to all that seeks to thwart and undermine life.  Obviously, Jesus is saying, considering and determining are called for before entering into a complex and risky project such as the construction of a watchtower or a battle against a formidable enemy.  Just as there is prudent discernment in such temporal acts, how much more must there be in the eternal decision to become a disciple.  If we are careful and realistic in our earthly pursuits of our goals, how much more must we be with our souls?  Jesus is not interested in sneaking in some fine print at the end of your disciple contract.  He is utterly transparent and honest in his conditions.  He simply wants the potential disciple to be as transparent and honest in their answer.

I have known people who liked the idea of being a disciple, who wanted the benefits of all that God promises, certainly wanted to go to heaven, but were not so interested in the formation between here and heaven, especially if it is costly (and it is always costly).  “I tried religion but it did not work for me”.  Usually the “did not work” is code for “it was not instant and easy.”  I can empathize with the impulse to jump from plan to completion.  Once I set my face toward a project, once I see the value, that it is possible, that I want it, then I just want it to be done – now.  The spiritual smoothing of my rough edges between the intent and the completion – the formation of patience, fortitude, endurance, and hope that inevitably needs to happen - seems like a frustrating waste of time.  Show me some results and let me show off my success.  How often I start doing just to be doing something or rush into the adrenaline-thrill of battle long before I have thought through what exactly is going to happen or even entertained the vague notion that my fantasy, however real it seemed when I started, was not rational at all, and suddenly I have run out of spiritual materials to keep going or I am being trampled by the enemy of my own stubborn agenda.  It turns out the teachable moments, the processes between here and heaven are important and unavoidable.

Conversion is about sitting down and considering and determining our lives first.  What I am I thinking about, talking about, doing, and to what end – where does this path go?  Before construction begins, before the battle is engaged, we need clarity.  We need an honest assessment.  The nurturing of our intent which is the energy to continue on the path of conversion, is the essential precursor to faithful action.  Following Jesus is not whatever I decide it to be.  Being a disciple is not following the Jesus I want.  It is a long, slow look at who he is and what is being asked of me.  The possibility for delusion is great, but the light of truth is greater.  Sometimes what I discover is I am on a journey on my terms, giving parts of myself, following a made-up Jesus and am headed into the abyss of resentment and loneliness.  To sit down and consider and determine is to discover that my plan cannot work.  The tower will fall, I will lose the battle.  Better an honest “no” than a conditional or qualified “yes”.  An honest “no” is good – it has possibility and hope for renewed conversion if I am willing to start afresh.

Because we are an action-obsessed culture, much of what is defined as Christian life is talking, going, and doing.  That is all well and good and Jesus likes that, but here he says, “sit down”.  Sitting down with honesty, clarity, and decisiveness leads to action that is wise and fruitful.  In a sense, Jesus is describing our whole lives and vocations, the big picture between plan and completion is my life and every day is a participation in the rhythm of discernment and engagement.  Today is building on the “yes” of my commitment and moving toward the end when the construction is over, the sounds of battle stilled, and I give my life back to God.  The moments, the opportunities, the encounters between here and heaven are sacred elements in the foundation of my life and my opposition to all that would sabotage that life.  They may seem trivial, mundane, ordinary, unseen, unexciting – but these middle bits between the excitement of beginning and the graduation into the next life are, for Jesus and Benedict, the very things that reveal my desire, expose my illusions, and clarify my intention.  Nothing is wasted, nothing is unimportant, no moment is separate from the potential to intent today the life I want for the rest of my journey.

We do not know all that entering into this journey will ask of us.  We cannot determine at the beginning how it will unfold.  But we can discern our intent, our desire, our commitment to keep asking.  Jesus is not expecting us to predict the future, but he is asking us to step into the unknown and meet him, already there and waiting, with the grace we need to welcome the gifts and trials that life will bring along the way, toward life and peace, along the run to our heavenly home. Amen.