Let the brethren who are sent on a journey commend themselves to the prayers of all the brethren and of the Abbot; and always at the last prayer of the Work of God let a commemoration be made of all absent brethren. When brethren return from a journey, at the end of each canonical Hour of the Work of God on the day they return, let them lie prostrate on the floor of the oratory and beg the prayers of all on account of any faults that may have surprised them on the road, through the seeing or hearing of something evil, or through idle talk. And let no one presume to tell another whatever he may have seen or heard outside of the monastery, because this causes very great harm. But if anyone presumes to do so, let him undergo the punishment of the Rule. And let him be punished likewise who would presume to leave the enclosure of the monastery and go anywhere or do anything, however small, without an order from the Abbot.

For many -- perhaps most -- religious or spiritual people there are times when a monastic life has its attractions. But after sixty-seven days with the Rule, I know that Benedict's vision is not mine.

His world was, almost certainly, more fractured and violent than mine. So I can appreciate the priority he gives to preserving the sanctity and spiritual security of the monastery. I might even agree that in a tumultuous time Benedict did what was necessary to store the seed grain of spiritual renewal.

But for our time and place I hear a call to active engagement with the world and all its surprises. It is especially important for those who seek the way of Christ to be about in the world, being our salty and yeasty selves.

Certainly Benedict was not detached from the world, as the scene above captures so well. This is from a collection of works on the life of Benedict by Neroccio de' Landi.