Let each one sleep in a separate bed. Let them receive bedding suitable to their manner of life, according to the Abbess's directions. If possible let all sleep in one place; but if the number does not allow this, let them take their rest by tens or twenties with the seniors who have charge of them. A candle shall be kept burning in the room until morning. Let them sleep clothed and girded with belts or cords -- but not with their knives at their sides, lest they cut themselves in their sleep -- and thus be always ready to rise without delay when the signal is given and hasten to be before one another at the Work of God, yet with all gravity and decorum. The younger shall not have beds next to one another, but among those of the older ones. When they rise for the Work of God let them gently encourage one another, that the drowsy may have no excuse.

I wonder if my post-Freudian sensibilities help or hurt my ability to understand today's reading.

Is this a big slumber party or an even bigger sublimation?

The Emperor Justinian - a contemporary of Benedict - was much concerned with sexual immorality among clergy and monastics. I may not be reading too much between the lines.

In a meditation I read before turning to Benedict this morning, I am urged to recognize that before we might be holy we must first be fully human.

I wonder if Benedict would agree. Or would this seem to him a post-Freudian dodge.

If the community is a large one, let there be chosen out of it brethren of good repute and holy life, and let them be appointed deans. These shall take charge of their deaneries in all things, observing the commandments of God and the instructions of their Abbot. Let men of such character be chosen deans that the Abbot may with confidence share his burdens among them. Let them be chosen not by rank but according to their worthiness of life and the wisdom of their doctrine. If any of these deans should become inflated with pride and found deserving of censure, let him be corrected once, and again, and a third time. If he will not amend, then let him be deposed and another be put in his place who is worthy of it. And we order the same to be done in the case of the Prior.

Leadership is to be shared.

Leadership is not a matter of rank, but worthiness and wisdom.

Pride complicates worthiness and wisdom. Leadership tempts pride.

Most of us - leaders in particular - will require correction.

But amendment is possible, and if achieved, to be celebrated.

When we wish to suggest our wants to persons of high station, we do not presume to do so except with humility and reverence. How much the more, then, are complete humility and pure devotion necessary in supplication of the Lord who is God of the universe! And let us be assured that it is not in saying a great deal that we shall be heard (Matt 6:7), but in purity of heart and in tears of compunction. Our prayer, therefore, ought to be short and pure, unless it happens to be prolonged by an inspiration of divine grace. In community, however, let prayer be very short, and when the Superior gives the signal let all rise together.

I am asked to pray at celebratory public events. The request often comes one minute or less before the prayer is to begin.

My prayers could - even should - be short. But I do not have such humility. Moreover to suggest the sacramental potential of the event seems too good a chance to pass up.

During one such spontaneous prayer I was concerned to hear laughter twittering through the crowd of bowed heads. Even immediately after the prayer was over I had no recollection of what I said. My wife assured me that what I offered was fine. The wit threshold for prayers is pretty low and a couple of phrases - in combination with the pre-prayer cocktails - struck some as innocently delightful.

I am not sure I was inspired by divine grace. But while there are many, many serious issues to bring to God in prayer, we might try to not take ourselves too seriously.

Which may be close to Benedict's instruction as well.

Above is St. Benedict at table with his sister St. Scholastica.

We believe that the divine presence is everywhere and that "the eyes of the Lord are looking on the good and the evil in every place" (Prov. 15:3). But we should believe this especially without any doubt when we are assisting at the Work of God. To that end let us be mindful always of the Prophet's words, "Serve the Lord in fear" (Ps. 2:11) and again "Sing praises wisely" (Ps. 46:8) and "In the sight of the Angels I will sing praise to You" (Ps. 137:1). Let us therefore consider how we ought to conduct ourselves in sight of the Godhead and of His Angels, and let us take part in the psalmody in such a way that our mind may be in harmony with our voice.

"We believe that the divine presence is everywhere..."

God is immanent. God is emanant. God is everywhere.

Even in the torture chamber? Even where there is murder? Even where there is painful and persistent degradation? Especially there.

The crucifixion is full of meaning. That God is with us in suffering is clearly one of its meanings.

In this presence is the possibility of the sacramental and transcendental in all things.

The order of psalmody for the day Hours being thus arranged, let all the remaining Psalms be equally distributed among the seven Night Offices by dividing the longer Psalms among them and assigning twelve Psalms to each night. We strongly recommend, however, that if this distribution of the Psalms is displeasing to anyone, she should arrange them otherwise, in whatever way she considers better, but taking care in any case that the Psalter with its full number of 150 Psalms be chanted every week and begun again every Sunday at the Night Office. For those monastics show themselves too lazy in the service to which they are vowed, who chant less than the Psalter with the customary canticles in the course of a week, whereas we read that our holy Fathers strenuously fulfilled that task in a single day. May we, lukewarm that we are, perform it at least in a whole week!

How it is achieved is not as important as the achievement. The way that is most pleasant is to be preferred, as long as it leads to the same destination.

In this case the goal is to engage all of the psalms in one week. Benedict has specified one way, he is open to others. He has left it to the abbot or abbess to decide the precise order.

Regularly reading all of the psalms is one step on our way to engaging God.

Vespers are to be sung with four Psalms every day. These shall begin with Psalm 109 and go on to Psalm 147, omitting those which are set apart for other Hours; that is to say that with the exception of Psalms 117 to 127 and Psalms 133 and 142, all the rest of these are to be said at Vespers. And since there are three Psalms too few, let the longer ones of the above number be divided, namely Psalms 138, 143 and 144. But let Psalm 116 because of its brevity be joined to Psalm 115. The order of the Vesper Psalms being thus settled, let the rest of the Hour -- lesson, responsory, hymn, verse and canticle -- be carried out as we prescribed above. At Compline the same Psalms are to be repeated every day, namely Psalms 4, 90 and 133.

Order is often a matter of context, symmetry, and proportion.

We seek beauty. We seek what seems precisely right in its purpose and place.

We seek perpetual beauty. We seek a continuity of the beautiful.

Benedict crafted an order that has persisted for more than 1500 years.

It is a pathway to experiencing utltimate beauty, a pathway to God.

Above is a depiction of St. Benedict with sheaves.

At Terce, Sext and None on Monday let the nine remaining sections of Psalm 118 be said, three at each of these Hours.Psalm 118 having been completed, therefore, on two days, Sunday and Monday, let the nine Psalms from Psalm 119 to Psalm 127 be said at Terce, Sext and None, three at each Hour, beginning with Tuesday. And let these same Psalms be repeated every day until Sunday at the same Hours, while the arrangement of hymns, lessons and versesis kept the same on all days; and thus Prime on Sunday will always begin with Psalm 118.

I am fairly certain that Benedict's Psalm 118 is what most of us now call 119. The Greek numbering of the Psalms, used by most of the early church, is different from the Hebrew numbering of the Psalms now used by most Christians in the West.

This is the longest psalm, opening with "Happy are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord." It is followed by a series of shorter psalms especially well suited for Benedict's purpose.

Psalm 118 is part of the Jewish Great Prayer offered during the festivals of Passover, Weeks, and Tabernacles. It plays as especially important role in Greek Orthodox liturgy, monastic life, and the funeral service.

The Benedictines of Santo Domingo de Silos are heard chanting Psalm 121 in this Google video.

Let this verse be said: "Incline unto my aid, O God; O Lord, make haste to help me," and the "Glory be to the Father" then the hymn proper to each Hour. Then at Prime on Sunday four sections of Psalm 118 are to be said; and at each of the remaining Hours, that is Terce, Sext and None, three sections of the same Psalm 118. At Prime on Monday let three Psalms be said, namely Psalms 1, 2 and 6. And so each day at Prime until Sunday let three Psalms be said in numerical order, to Psalm 19, but with Psalms 9 and 17 each divided into two parts. Thus it comes about that the Night Office on Sunday always begins with Psalm 20.

In a chaotic world we value order, especially repetitive and predictable order.

Where we find uncertainty, we are inclined to assert whatever structure we can.

Where we find overwhelming complexity, we are inclined to impose specific simplicities.

Structure and simplification are often appropriate. But our context is seldom one dimensional.

To cultivate order may also require creating the new. To abide in chaos may require embracing complexity.

We have already arranged the order of the psalmody for the Night and Morning Offices; let us now provide for the remaining Hours.At Prime let three Psalms be said, separately and not under one "Glory be to the Father." The hymn of that Hour is to follow the verse "Incline unto my aid, O God," before the Psalms begin. Upon completion of the three Psalms let one lesson be recited, then a verse, the "Lord, have mercy on us" and the concluding prayers. The Offices of Terce, Sext and None are to be celebrated in the same order, that is: the "Incline unto my aid, O God," the hymn proper to each Hour, three Psalms, lesson and verse, "Lord, have mercy on us" and concluding prayers. If the community is a large one, let the Psalms be sung with antiphons; but if small, let them be sung straight through. Let the Psalms of the Vesper Office be limited to four, with antiphons. After these Psalms the lesson is to be recited, then the responsory, the Ambrosian hymn, the verse, the canticle from the Gospel book, the litany, the Lord's Prayer and the concluding prayers. Let Compline be limited to the saying of three Psalms, which are to be said straight through without antiphon, and after them the hymn of that Hour, one lesson, a verse, the "Lord, have mercy on us," the blessing and the concluding prayers.

An antiphon is a call and response. One choir - or one voice - sings a phrase. A second choir - or voice - responds. The form arose very early in the Eastern Church.



We are called. How will we respond?

This antiphon for Advent was found at a wonderful site called chantblog.

Antiphonal singing was introduced to the West in the 4th Century by Saint Ambrose of Milan. The Italian regional government of Lombardy maintains a website on Ambrosian hymns, including audio files.

Seven times in the day," says the Prophet, "I have rendered praise to You" (Ps. 118:164). Now that sacred number of seven will be fulfilled by us if we perform the Offices of our service at the time of the Morning Office, of Prime, of Terce, of Sext, of None, of Vespers and of Compline, since it was of these day Hours that he said, "Seven times in the day I have rendered praise to You." For as to the Night Office the same Prophet says, "In the middle of the night I arose to glorify You" (Ps. 118:62). Let us therefore bring our tribute of praise to our Creator "for the judgments of His justice" (Ps. 118:164) at these times: the Morning Office, Prime, Terce, Sext, None, Vespers and Compline; and in the night let us arise to glorify Him.

In the Graeco-Roman world the day was divided into four parts of three very rough solar hours. The first part, Prime, began with sunrise considered 6AM. Three hours after dawn (tertia is the Latin for three) was Terce, followed three hours laters by Sext (sex is the Latin for six), followed three hours later by None (novum is the Latin for nine).

Vespers, from the Latin for evening, was the twelfth hour of the day, for most of the year this is when the lamps were lit. Roughly three hours later was Compline. This is derived from the Latin Completorium or completion.

Every third waking hour the community would pause for praise and thanksgiving. It was a gathering of the whole community in prayer and worship. I wonder how our lives might be transformed if using the same schedule we merely paused for a mindful moment of personal prayer.

From holy Easter until Pentecost without interruption let "Alleluia" be said both in the Psalms and in the responsories. From Pentecost to the beginning of Lent let it be said every night with the last six Psalms of the Night Office only. On every Sunday, however, outside of Lent, the canticles, the Morning Office, Prime, Terce, Sext and None shall be said with "Alleluia," but Vespers with antiphons. The responsories are never to be said with "Alleluia" except from Easter to Pentecost.

I was raised in a non-liturgical tradition. As a young adult I was drawn to the mysteries of the mass.

Someone - I cannot recall who - said that the mass is opera for the common people. As Benedict's directions suggest our worship can be consciously structured to evoke understanding and provoke feeling.

In Pigeon Feathers and Other Stories, the recently deceased John Updike wrote,

"Taken purely as a human recreation, what could be more delightful, more unexpected than to enter a venerable and lavishly scaled building kept warm and clean for us one or two hours a week and to sit and stand in unison and sing and recite creeds and petitions that are like paths worn smooth in the raw terrain of our hearts? To listen, or not listen, as a poorly paid but resplendently robed man strives to console us with scraps of ancient epistles and halting accounts, hopelessly compromised by words, of those intimations of divine joy that are like pain in that, their instant gone, the mind cannot remember or believe them; to witness the windows donated by departed patrons and the altar flowers arranged by withdrawn hands and the whole considered spectacle lustrous beneath its patina of inheritance; to pay, for all this, no more than we are moved to give—surely in all democracy there is nothing like it. Indeed, it is the most available democratic experience.We vote less than once a year. Only in church and at the polls are we actually given our supposed value, the soul-unit of one, with its noumenal arithmetic of equality: one equals one equals one."

On the feasts of Saints and on all festivals let the Office be performed as we have prescribed for Sundays, except that the Psalms, the antiphons and the lessons belonging to that particular day are to be said. Their number, however, shall remain as we have specified above.

Today the Anglican community remembers Janani Luwum, Archbishop of Uganda and martyr.

When confronted with injustice, he did what he could restore justice.

When confronted with lies, he did what he could to tell the truth.

When confronted with fear, he did what he could to behave with courage.

When confronted with hate, he did what he could to respond in love.

When confronted with death, he reached out for God to receive him.

We remember the saints to show us what is possible for each of us.

The Morning and Evening Offices should never be allowed to pass without the Superior saying the Lord's Prayer in its place at the end so that all may hear it, on account of the thorns of scandal which are apt to spring up. Thus those who hear it, being warned by the covenant which they make in that prayer when they say, "Forgive us as we forgive," may cleanse themselves of faults against that covenant. But at the other Offices let the last part only of that prayer be said aloud, so that all may answer, "But deliver us from evil.

To be forgiven as we forgive is an interesting bargain.

The Greek is aphiemi: to let go of, depart from, or send away.

The Hebrew for forgive is to cover, to hide, to seal away, perhaps to sublimate.

The more intimate our relations the more difficult it can be to forgive.

We have a tendency to hold tight to our grievance. Rather than hide-it-away we display it prominently.

In so doing we never allow our own hurt to heal. In failing to forgive we self-mutilate.

Healing the world begins with allowing our own wounds to heal.

On weekdays the Morning Office shall be celebrated as follows. Let Psalm 66 be said without an antiphon and somewhat slowly, as on Sunday, in order that all may be in time for Psalm 50, which is to be said with an antiphon. After that let two other Psalms be said according to custom,namely: on Monday Psalms 5 and 35, on Tuesday Psalms 42 and 56, on Wednesday Psalms 63 and 64, on Thursday Psalms 87 and 89, on Friday Psalms 75 and 91, and on Saturday Psalm 142 and the canticle from Deuteronomy, which is to be divided into two sections each terminated by a "Glory be to the Father." But on the other days let there be a canticle from the Prophets, each on its own day as chanted by the Roman Church. Next follow the Psalms of praise, then a lesson of the Apostle to be recited from memory, the responsory, the Ambrosian hymn, the verse, the canticle from the Gospel book, the litany, and so the end.

In her commentary on this chapter of the Rule, Esther De Waal writes that Benedict seeks to keep two realities in tension.

"In the first psalm comes a plea for continued grace, which asks 'may God still give us his blessing."

"In the second is a recognition of our need for continual forgiveness, "Have mercy on me, God, in your kindness. In your compassion blot out my offence."

I am blessed and I am broken. Each is as real as the other. Each is as persistent as the other. This is my condition.

Can - should - the tension be resolved? Not through my actions or will. Probably not in this life. The tension may even empower good.

The Morning Office on Sunday shall begin with Psalm 66 recited straight through without an antiphon. After that let Psalm 50 be said with "Alleluia," then Psalms 117 and 62, the Canticle of Blessing (Benedicite) and the Psalms of praise (Ps. 148-150); then a lesson from the Apocalypse to be recited by heart, the responsory, the Ambrosian hymn, the verse, the canticle from the Gospel book, the litany and so the end.

I wonder about what Benedict intended with the scripture he specifies. Some seem, appropriately enough, chosen to accompany the sun's rising:

"Shout with joy to God, all the earth! Sing the glory of his name; make his praise glorious!" (Psalm 66: 1-2)

"The Mighty One, God, the Lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to the place where it sets." (Psalm 50: 1)

Benedict includes the shortest of the psalms, "Praise the Lord, all you nations; extol him, all you peoples. For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord." (Psalm 117)

Psalm 62 reminds us of how God is a source of assurance, "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken."

But just in case all this praising might encourage one's heart to fly too high, Benedict also requires that a passage of the Apocalypse be recited from memory. Glorious praise, loving assurance, and warning of judgment harmonized to begin the day.

On Sunday the hour of rising for the Night Office should be earlier. In that Office let the measure already prescribed be kept, namely the singing of six Psalms and a verse. Then let all be seated on the benches in their proper order while the lessons and their responsories are read from the book, as we said above. These shall be four in number, with the chanter saying the "Glory be to the Father" in the fourth responsory only, and all rising reverently as soon as he begins it. After these lessons let six more Psalms with antiphons follow in order, as before, and a verse; and then let four more lessons be read with their responsories in the same way as the former. After these let there be three canticles from the book of the Prophets, as the Abbot shall appoint, and let these canticles be chanted with "Alleluia." Then when the verse has been said and the Abbot has given the blessing, let four more lessons be read, from the New Testament, in the manner prescribed above. After the fourth responsory let the Abbot begin the hymn "We praise You, O God." When this is finished the Abbot shall read the lesson from the book of the Gospels, while all stand in reverence and awe. At the end let all answer "Amen," and let the Abbot proceed at once to the hymn "To You be praise." After the blessing has been given, let them begin the Morning Office.This order for the Night Office on Sunday shall be observed the year around, both summer and winter; unless it should happen (which God forbid) that the brethren be late in rising, in which case the lessons or the responsories will have to be shortened somewhat. Let every precaution be taken, however, against such an occurrence; but if it does happen, then the one through whose neglect it has come about should make due satisfaction to God in the oratory.

Benedict was clearly a great organizer and a very disciplined man.

He was a sufficiently wise organizer to anticipate a lack of discipline by others.

When human frailty emerges, adjust the plan. Take every precaution to ensure the plan's success. But, if necessary, be flexible.

This is not unprincipled. It is not hypocritical. It is realistic.

May our plans always be humane and realistically human.

From Easter until the Calends of November let the same number of Psalms be kept as prescribed above; but no lessons are to be read from the book, on account of the shortness of the nights. Instead of those three lessons let one lesson from the Old Testament be said by heart and followed by a short responsory. But all the rest should be done as has been said; that is to say that never fewer than twelve Psalms should be said at the Night Office, not counting Psalm 3 and Psalm 94.

Benedict adjusts the time given to worship to the seasons of the year so that the body may have sufficient rest.

But he does not adjust the time and emphasis given to praising God. The psalms are many things, but their purpose is to offer praise.

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the day, in every waking minute: Praise God!

In winter time as defined above, there is first this verse to be said three times: "O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare Your praise." To it is added Psalm 3 and the "Glory be to the Father," and after that Psalm 94 to be chanted with an antiphon or even chanted simply. Let the Ambrosian hymn follow next, and then six Psalms with antiphons. When these are finished and the verse said, let the Abbot give a blessing; then, all being seated on the benches, let three lessons be read from the book on the lectern by the brethren in their turns, and after each lesson let a responsory be chanted. Two of the responsories are to be said without a "Glory be to the Father" but after the third lesson let the chanter say the "Glory be to the Father," and as soon as he begins it let all rise from their seats out of honor and reverence to the Holy Trinity. The books to be read at the Night Office shall be those of divine authorship, of both the Old and the New Testament, and also the explanations of them which have been made by well known and orthodox Catholic Fathers. After these three lessons with their responsories let the remaining six Psalms follow, to be chanted with "Alleluia." After these shall follow the lesson from the Apostle, to be recited by heart, the verse and the petition of the litany, that is "Lord, have mercy on us." And so let the Night Office come to an end.

There is value in gathering together to praise God.

There is value in regular study of scripture.

There is value, especially in the dark of night, to think on holy purpose.

There is value in daily and perpetual prayer.

As Benedict wrote a thousand years of Greek culture was crumbling about him. It was a confusing and dangerous time.

He instructed that each night in the two hours after midnight the community should gather.

During the winter, which even in Italy can be cold and wet, they should begin with the third psalm:

O LORD, how many are my foes! How many rise up against me!
Many are saying of me, "God will not deliver him."
But you are a shield around me, O LORD; you bestow glory on me and lift up my head.
To the LORD I cry aloud, and he answers me from his holy hill.
I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the LORD sustains me.
I will not fear the tens of thousands drawn up against me on every side.
Arise, O LORD! Deliver me, O my God! Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked.
From the LORD comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people.

Above is a depiction of Benedict at Montecassino.

In the winter time, that is from the Calends of November until Easter, the sisters shall rise at what is calculated to be the eighth hour of the night, so that they may sleep somewhat longer than half the night and rise with their rest completed. And the time that remains after the Night Office should be spent in study by those sisters who need a better knowledge of the Psalter or the lessons. From Easter to the aforesaid Calends of November, the hour of rising should be so arranged that the Morning Office, which is to be said at daybreak, will follow the Night Office after a very short interval, during which they may go out for the necessities of nature.

We should be mindful of time: night, day and the passing of the seasons.

We should give ourselves time for sleep, a full eight hours of rest.

We should gives ourselves time for study, attending especially to our deficiencies.

We should give ourselves time for the necessaria naturae, the needs of our body.

We should adjust to unfolding change over time.

The twelfth degree of humility is that a monk not only have humility in his heart but also by his very appearance make it always manifest to those who see him. That is to say that whether he is at the Work of God, in the oratory, in the monastery, in the garden, on the road, in the fields or anywhere else, and whether sitting, walking or standing, he should always have his head bowed and his eyes toward the ground. Feeling the guilt of his sins at every moment, he should consider himself already present at the dread Judgment and constantly say in his heart what the publican in the Gospel said with his eyes fixed on the earth: "Lord, I am a sinner and not worthy to lift up my eyes to heaven" (Luke 18:13; Matt. 8:8);and again with the Prophet: "I am bowed down and humbled everywhere" (Ps. 37:7,9; 118:107). Having climbed all these steps of humility, therefore, the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out fear. And all those precepts which formerly he had not observed without fear, he will now begin to keep by reason of that love, without any effort, as though naturally and by habit. No longer will his motive be the fear of hell, but rather the love of Christ, good habit and delight in the virtues which the Lord will deign to show forth by the Holy Spirit in His servant now cleansed from vice and sin.

I have disputed a bit with Benedict. Today I am troubled again by, "feeling the guilt of his sins at every moment."

But I fully accept the great need to be grounded in God: to be humble.

I acknowledge that I should listen more and speak less.

My great task is to know God's will and make it my own, not just knowing God's will but being obedient to it.

I value patience and persistence. I know the power of confession. To be content with what one has is a profound spiritual gift.

Self-critique and self-awareness are necessary steps in handing over to God my many sins and failures.

Joining with others - believers and non-believers both - I may do my part in healing a wounded world.

I have argued most when Benedict has commended an earnest, even dour, self-discipline. I know the value of discipline and do not discount it.

But - as Benedict observes above - discipline is but the gravel atop the ground. The ground's depth is experienced in "love of Christ, good habit and delight in the virtues."

Humility is, it seems to me, mostly an ever-present sense of exuberant thanksgiving for all of God's gifts: pain and pleasure, doubt and faith, struggle and success, and super-abundant love.

The eleventh degree of humility is that when a monk speaks he do so gently and without laughter, humbly and seriously, in few and sensible words, and that he be not noisy in his speech. It is written, "A wise man is known by the fewness of his words"(Sextus, Enchidirion, 134 or 145).

One person's sense of humor is not the same as another.

Irony is often misunderstood.

The more we say the more likely we will offend another.

Too often our speech descends into gossip, grumbling, calumny, and jokes at another's expense.

I understand that Benedict is seeking to gather an effective community focused on God.

It may only prove that I am not meant for such a community.

But I would prefer more attention to "thou shalt's" and less to "thou shalt not's."

Above is a 20th Century representation of St. Benedict.

The tenth degree of humility is that he be not ready and quick to laugh, for it is written, "The fool lifts up his voice in laughter" (Eccles. 21:23).

Does it matter why I am laughing?

Laughing at another, at cruelty, in revenge, with contempt... I understand the discouragement.

Benedict uses the Latin risu translated above as laugh. This is the root of the English risible, deride, and ridicule. This is usually to laugh at.

There is another Latin word which Benedict does not enjoin: gaudere. This is also to laugh in joy, in delight, in pleasure, and in thanksgiving.

Beatus nobis gaudia - bless our joy and bless our laughing - in thanksgiving for all of God's blessing.

The audio is from the Origin of Fire: Music and Visions of Hildegard Von Bingen (Harmonia Mundi)

The ninth degree of humility is that a monk restrain his tongue and keep silence, not speaking until he is questioned. For the Scripture shows that "in much speaking there is no escape from sin" (Prov. 10:19) and that "the talkative man is not stable on the earth" (Ps. 139:12).

Is there a difference between chatting and speaking? Between gossiping and discourse?

Benedict uses loquator - which we have kept as loquacious - rather than the more basic dico or narro. Is this speaking which satisfies the speaker? Is this speaking by which the speaker asserts, rather than speaking that seeks?

There is value in silence. Even the most elevated discussion can simply be distracting. But it is also through speaking - and listening - that we may most effectively reach out to one another.

The eighth degree of humility is that a monk do nothing except what is commended by the common Rule of the monastery and the example of the elders.

In many churches the New Testament reading assigned for today is from Paul's letter to the church in Galatia. The reading includes:

"For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’" (Galatians 5:13-14)

Many of the great faiths teach detachment as spiritual discipline. Jesus also demonstrated a kind of detachment from much that was esteemed in the culture of his time.

But much more important to the teachings of Jesus is an attachment to one another. We are Christians together or we are not Christians at all.

We begin to heal the universe by binding ourselves together in messy, complicated, often aggravating communities of faith.

Above is a fresco from Montecassino showing Benedict surrounded by those who have followed his Rule.

The seventh degree of humility is that he consider himself lower and of less account than anyone else, and this not only in verbal protestation but also with the most heartfelt inner conviction, humbling himself and saying with the Prophet, "But I am a worm and no man, the scorn of men and the outcast of the people" (Ps. 21:7)."After being exalted, I have been humbled and covered with confusion" (Pa. 87:16). And again, "It is good for me that You have humbled me, that I may learn Your commandments" (Ps. 118:71).

After Freud it is difficult to declare with heartfelt inner conviction, "I am a worm."

Between Roman pride and Renaissance confidence there was plenty of arrogance and ambition. But Benedict was one of the founders of a new culture that emphasized humanity's poverty in comparison to God's abundance.

I am not entirely comfortable with such extreme self-denial by the individual. But considering the effect of the opposite on contemporary culture, I cannot simply reject the principle.

The goal, it seems to me, is to recognize and accept our individual limitations while celebrating and cultivating the grace and gifts which together we enjoy as sons and daughters of God.

Perhaps I am only a worm, but in fellowship with my fellow worms and depending on the grace of God, I can transform hard ground into rich soil.

The sixth degree of humility is that a monk be content with the poorest and worst of everything, and that in every occupation assigned him he consider himself a bad and worthless workman, saying with the Prophet,"I am brought to nothing and I am without understanding; I have become as a beast of burden before You, and I am always with You" (Ps:22-23).

The contemporary cult of self-esteem does not well-conform with the Rule. Even our modern understanding of fairness is threatened.

What do I deserve? What have I earned? These are not, according to Benedict, helpful questions.

Near the end of his life Thomas Aquinas suddenly ended his extraordinary intellectual production. He told a colleague, "All that I have written now seems so much straw!"

It seems to me that we should do what we can and to do it as well as we are able. There is value even in straw.

But we should not mistake our straw for God's gold.

The fifth degree of humility is that he hide from his Abbot none of the evil thoughts that enter his heart or the sins committed in secret, but that he humbly confess them. The Scripture urges us to this when it says,"Reveal your way to the Lord and hope in Him" (Ps. 36:5) and again, "Confess to the Lord, for He is good, for His mercy endures forever" (Ps. 105:1). And the Prophet likewise says, "My offense I have made known to You, and my iniquities I have not covered up. I said: 'I will declare against myself my iniquities to the Lord;' and 'You forgave the wickedness of my heart'" (Ps. 31:5).

Confession requires self-awareness and implies self-critique. These strike me as fundamental and too often neglected.

But self-critique and silent confession may be insufficient for the receiving of grace. In articulating the confession and it being heard by another human ear there can be a release that may otherwise be lacking.

Mercy and forgiveness are abundantly offered. But acceptance can be difficult. We may need the help of another.

I am not entirely sure what is happening in this depiction of St. Benedict, but he seems to be receiving the help of others.

The fourth degree of humility is that he hold fast to patience with a silent mind when in this obedience he meets with difficulties and contradictions and even any kind of injustice, enduring all without growing weary or running away. For the Scripture says, "The one who perseveres to the end, is the one who shall be saved" (Matt. 10:22); and again"Let your heart take courage, and wait for the Lord" (Ps. 26:14)!

And to show how those who are faithful ought to endure all things, however contrary, for the Lord, the Scripture says in the person of the suffering, "For Your sake we are put to death all the day long; we are considered as sheep marked for slaughter" (Ps. 43:22; Rom. 8:36).Then, secure in their hope of a divine recompense, they go on with joy to declare, "But in all these trials we conquer, through Him who has granted us His love" (Rom. 8:37). Again, in another place the Scripture says, "You have tested us, O God; You have tried us a silver is tried, by fire; You have brought us into a snare; You have laid afflictions on our back" (Matt. 5:39-41). And to show that we ought to be under a Superior, it goes on to say, "You have set men over our heads" (Ps. 65:12).

Moreover, by their patience those faithful ones fulfill the Lord's command in adversities and injuries:when struck on one cheek, they offer the other; when deprived of their tunic, they surrender also their cloak;when forced to go a mile, they go two; with the Apostle Paul they bear with false brethren (2 Cor. 11:26) and bless those who curse them (1 Cor. 4:12).

Benedict is teaching us how to be grounded, how to be authentically ourselves. This is the fourth characteristic. Previously he has encouraged: fear of God, denial of willfulness, and love of God.

Today he emphasizes persistence and patience. There will be difficulty and injustice. We will be threatened and we will suffer even unto death. But we are to respond with the wisdom and confidence of those who know what is real and what is not real.

There is present reality and ultimate reality. Between the two are many contradictions. Each have their reality. The present suffering can be awful. The present joy can be wonderful. They are not illusions. These are more than shadows.

But to the extent such suffering or such joy is separate from God it is not the whole reality. Benedict teaches us to be patient and persistent as we work with God to join the two realities. This is our test. Moreover, it is our abiding task.

Benedict quotes Paul. But another passage strikes me as especially apt: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." (First Corinthians 13:4-7)