In these two paragraphs omitted by St. Benedict, the Master explains that the Lord gave the Church three degrees of doctrina: first the prophets, then the apostles, finally the doctores. Here he is citing the list of charisms in 1 Cor 12:28 (apostles, prophets, teachers), but has placed the prophets first, understanding this term to refer to the Old Testament prophets.43 Accordingly, the three categories are taken not simultaneously but successively: the prophets in Old Testament times, the apostles in the days of the early Church, the teachers today. The latter continue the mission of the apostles to be shepherds of the Lord’s flock; to them are addressed the words, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:17). The Lord’s sheepfolds are of two kinds: “churches” and “schools of Christ.” The former term refers to local churches; the latter, to monasteries. It is explained elsewhere in the RM that each of these has its own hierarchy: the former has bishops, priests, deacons and clerics; the latter, abbots and provosts (RM 11.6-12)
The monastery, therefore, is analogous to a local church, and the abbot to a bishop. Both receive from the Lord the authority to rule over their respective sheepfolds, as well as the doctrina they hand on to their sheep. To both are addressed the words of Christ: “He who hears you, hears me” (Luke 10:16). The abbot, then, like the bishop, has a divine commission to preside over the school of Christ entrusted to him. He is in the line of apostolic succession, heir to that teaching that comes down from the apostles and that they in turn received from Christ. Accordingly it is called “the commands of the Lord” and “the divine precepts” (RM/RB 2.12). Since the abbot is a layman, it is not by virtue of sacramental ordination that he inherits the promise of Christ: he belongs not to the sacramental but to the charismatic hierarchy.
If Benedict does not develop this teaching in detail, there are nevertheless indications that he tranquilly accepted it, though with some nuances. For him, too, the monastery is a “school” (Prol.45) and the abbot a doctor (5.6), even though these terms are used only once each and never explained. Further, the apostolic succession is presupposed, as is clear from the application of “He who hears you, hears me” (Luke 10:16) to monastic superiors (5.6), as in the RM (11.11). The abbot of the RB is likewise a shepherd to whom the paterfamilias has entrusted a flock, which he is to feed with his doctrina (2.6-10; see 27.8). St. Benedict has adopted almost unchanged the first ten verses of the RM’s chapter 2, in which the latter builds upon the theory of apostolic mission just enunciated at the end of the preceding chapter.
In this passage St. Benedict makes it clear from the outset that the abbot’s function is to make Christ present to his monks. He “holds the place of” or “fulfills the role of” Christ in the monastery. That this is so is strictly a matter of faith: “it is believed that. . . .” Reason cannot establish the abbot’s role in the cenobitic life; the whole question is a supernatural one. The monk must believe that the abbot is for him the mouthpiece of Christ, as the bishop is for the faithful of his local church, as the apostles were for the primitive Christian community and the prophets for the people of Israel. He is a mediator who bridges the gap between Christ and the monk, interpreting for him the Gospel teaching as it applies specifically to him, making the word of Christ alive and actual in the present moment. He is a channel through whom the word and will of Christ come to the monk.
The Rule relates this essential function of the abbot to his title abbas: this name means ‘father,’ and the essential role of the abbot is to be a father to his monks. The teaching is supported by reference to a biblical text in which the term abba is associated with the sonship of the Christian: “You have received the spirit of the adoption of sons, in which we cry out, ‘Abba, Father!’” (Rom 8:15). That the abbot should be spoken of as father to his monks is not surprising in view of what has already been said of the monastic tradition of spiritual fatherhood exercised by the elder. What is surprising, however, at least at first sight, is that this name “Father” is said to be Christ’s name: “He takes Christ’s place in the monastery . . . when he is called by his name” (2.2). Hence the cry of the Christian to his heavenly Father is directed to Christ rather than to God the Father! This question of the fatherhood of Christ will be discussed in the next section.
The definition of the abbot as father must, of course, be understood in the light of the tradition of spiritual paternity that we have previously sketched. Just as the Egyptian cenobitic founders absorbed this tradition from the elders of the desert and adapted it to their own situation, the Western legislators likewise derived it from their Eastern models. As in the East, the analogy is based upon the transmission of teaching, and precisely the kind of teaching (“formation” is perhaps a better term) that a parent gives to his children. Consequently, the abbot is primarily a doctor, as the RM makes clear. St. Benedict does not use this term in chapter 2, but the entire treatment is filled with other terms that belong to the vocabulary of teaching and learning: the abbot hands on doctrina, veritas, iussio, admonitio, praecepta and mandata; his activity is called docere, monstrare, proponere and animas regere; the monks are called discipuli and filii. The abbot is called pater and magister (2.24; see Prol.1). The response of the monks to him should be that of oboedientia.
Another analogy occurs throughout the chapter: the abbot is related to his monks as a shepherd is to the sheep under his care. This is, of course, one of the most familiar biblical metaphors. David, who tended the sheep of his father Jesse, was taken from the domestic sheepfold to be put in charge of the flock of Israel by Yahweh their owner (2 Sam 7:8; Ps 77 [78]:70-71). For this reason, his descendants, the kings of Judah, were referred to as shepherds to whom God had entrusted his sheep (Jer 2:8). When the shepherds proved unfaithful and untrustworthy, Yahweh took back his flock and shepherded it himself until a new shepherd might be sent who could be relied upon to safeguard the sheep (Ezek 34:1-24; Jer 23:1-4). This was his own Son, who identifies himself as the Good Shepherd (John 10:1-16) who enters into a personal relationship with each of his sheep. To continue his work of shepherding, Christ commissioned his disciples to feed his sheep (John 21:15-17). The successors of the apostles continue the task of shepherding the flock Christ has assembled (Acts 20:28-29; 1 Pet 5:1-4), trying to ensure that none goes astray (Matt 18:12-14; Luke 15:3-7).
The shepherd’s role is carried out in the various churches by the bishops, who are the mediators of grace for their flock. In the “school for the service of the Lord” (i.e., Christ), it is the abbot who fulfills the task of the shepherd, taking the place of the Supreme Shepherd. Here, however, Christ is the paterfamilias, the head of the family and of the entire estate, to whom the flock belongs. The abbot is a subordinate, an employee, so to speak, of the paterfamilias; to him is entrusted the care of the flock. If they do not turn out well, their defects are laid to the blame of the shepherd, who shall have to give an accounting to the owner, unless, indeed, the shepherd did the best he could but the sheep refused to obey (RB 2.7-10). The sarabaites are regarded as false cenobites because they lack the one element most necessary to a real coenobium: a shepherd (1.8). Hence the monasteries in which they live are not “the Lord s” sheepfolds but only their own; he is not the paterfamilias of these sheep, for his representative, the abbot, is not there to act for him on their behalf. The Rule sketches the image of Christ the loving Shepherd as a model for the abbot to follow (27.8-9).44
Still another metaphor introduced to explain the abbot’s task is that of physician, which occurs in chapter 28, though in the very last verse the sheep metaphor returns. Here he is advised to act as a doctor would in dealing with “sick” brothers, i.e., those who refuse to amend their evil ways even after being corrected and disciplined. The wise doctor uses various remedies, which increase progressively in severity and in the violence they do to the patient, inflicting pain on him, however, only in order to benefit him by effecting a cure. The last step is amputation; it is invoked only if all else fails. Likewise the abbot must vary his remedies according to the nature of the disease and t
he constitution of the patient, applying progressively more severe disciplinary penalties. His motive is solely medicinal: if his remedies are painful, it is only because he wants to cure the sickness. Only as a last resort does he amputate “so that one diseased sheep may not infect the whole flock.” In fact, the chapter concludes with a mixing of metaphors.
Finally, the abbot is compared to a trusted servant or steward of the household. In 64.7, St. Benedict says that the abbot will have to give an accounting of his stewardship, vilicatio: the word used in the Latin versions to translate the Greek term oikotiomia, ‘the management of the household.’ In the New Testament it is used only in Luke 16:1, to refer to the “unjust steward.” This official was manager of the entire property of a wealthy owner, who trusted him to administer his household. The same idea is further developed in 64.21-22: “. . . when he has ministered well he will hear from the Lord what that good servant heard who gave his fellow servants grain at the proper time: ‘I tell you solemnly,’ he said, ‘he has set him over all his possessions.’” The reference here is principally to Matt 24:45-47, with allusion to Matt 25:21 and 1 Tim 3:13. The servant in question has been singled out by the owner of the household for a task involving responsibility: to dispense rations to all the members of the household during the owner’s absence. He acquits himself well, and upon his return the owner makes him chief steward, putting him over all his property. This metaphor, then, points to the abbot’s task as administrator of the community and all its property and affairs, both spiritual and temporal. Again, the abbot is not the owner but a subordinate who must give an accounting to Christ, his Master, of his stewardship.
Father, teacher, shepherd, doctor, steward — these are the titles and functions attributed to the abbot analogically in order to elucidate his role. The RM contains one other that St. Benedict omitted: that of mother. The Master says that the abbot should show the brothers the tenderness of a father and the love of a mother (RM 2.31). The image is not unusual in Patristic literature and is rich in significance. It occurs in the six verses of the second section of the RM (2.26-31) that the RB omits entirely to make room for 2.26-29. Given Benedict’s penchant for abbreviating, especially to compensate for an addition to the text of the RM, the omission does not necessarily imply the author’s rejection of the analogy.
It should be noted that all the imagery of the two Rules is eminently biblical; the entire description of the abbot is drawn from biblical themes and in no sense from profane sources. Further, most of these are images that have traditionally been applied to Christ, either in Scripture itself (teacher, shepherd, doctor) or by the Fathers (father, mother). The abbot is identified as another Christ—as the one who represents him in the monastery—by application to him of the very titles that define the role of Christ himself.
This observation about the biblical source of the themes employed has in fact considerable methodological significance. Scholars seeking to elucidate the RB have often turned to profane documents and to the secular culture of the time to which they witness.45 They have accordingly taken the society of the late empire and its surviving social institutions as the background out of which the Rule is to be understood. The order and severity reflected in Benedict’s legislation are seen as a product of the Roman legal mind and the Nursina durities of its author. Therefore, monastic profession can be compared to the oath of the Roman soldier, the monastic chapter to the corporation in Roman law, the cenobitic community to the familia of late Roman society, and the abbot to the paterfamilias of the household. The plenary authority of the abbot is thus comparable to the provisions of Roman law, the domesticus magistratus, by which the paterfamilias had complete control over his children and slaves, even the power of life and death, and responsibility for their actions likewise fell upon him.
At first sight this comparison seems illuminating. In fact, however, there is not the slightest evidence for it in the texts. The only time the term paterfamilias occurs in the RM and RB it does not refer to the abbot but to Christ: the abbot is only the shepherd to whom the paterfamilias entrusts his sheep. This passage, in fact, shows that the image of the paterfamilias is not really appropriate for the abbot, for the latter is never envisaged as the owner whose authority is absolute and all-embracing. His role is more humble: he is only a vices gerens, one who takes the place of, and tries to discern and execute the will of, the real owner, Christ. Envisaged in political terms, it is true that the abbatial office looks like an unlimited monarchy in which one man holds sway; from this point of view, he may seem to resemble the Roman paterfamilias. But the whole issue is precisely that this point of view is incapable of penetrating to the reality: the abbot cannot be understood in purely political terms, for his function transcends the political sphere.
To say this is not to deny that the abbatial office is, like all human institutions, culture-conditioned and therefore subject to variations of understanding and execution with the passage of time. On this score, history is richly instructive. To this extent the analogy with profane institutions is not totally beside the point, for it is scarcely possible for people of any period, to be uninfluenced in their perception of religious institutions by the pre-understanding they have gained from their environment. But a close examination of the RB reveals that its author derived his understanding of what an abbot should be, not from profane analogies, but from a religious tradition deeply rooted in the Bible. Every theme and image that he invokes is biblical. The monastic legislators were heirs of a tradition; they read, cited and built upon their predecessors, and thereby gradually accumulated a fund of highly traditional doctrines and institutions, rooted in the Scriptures and always seeking their justification in the Word of God. They developed and lived in what can rightly be called a religious subculture, and it was this rather than the dominant culture of the world outside that formed the principal influence upon their thought and institutions. In order to understand these, therefore, we must explore their monastic background and environment in preference to the secular structures of the period, without denying that the latter also exercised some influence.
What an abbot ought to be, however, what he should do and how he should do it were clearly mapped out long before the sixth century dawned. The Western rules are in this respect, as in most others, derived from the Eastern doctrine and practice. We have seen, however, that Eastern monasticism was by no means univocal. What precisely, then, is the source of Benedict’s concept of the abbot, which he has taken over with only minor nuances?
Clearly, the RB and the RM are in the tradition of spiritual fatherhood. We have seen that this, and the use of the title abba to designate the bearer of it, originated in Egypt, so far as our documentation permits us to judge, and first flourished among the semi-anchoritic elders. It is probably the full-blown development of the charisms of prophecy and teaching that had been exercised by holy men in Christian communities from the beginning. When cenobitism developed, the spiritual fatherhood of the abba was extended to a greater number of disciples. In the Pachomian institute, new elements were added, notably the emphasis upon the importance of the koinōnia, and adjustments such as the introduction of subordinates had to be made when the number of disciples increased. But, while these differences may have altered the manner in which the abba’s fatherhood was actually exercised, they did not change the essential relationship between abbot and monk-disciple. The coenobium was an extension of the elder-disciple relationship on a scale that inevitably produced alterations, but this relationship remained the very essence of the cenobitic life.
The first thing that defines an abbot, then, is not his position at the head of a community or an institution but his relationship to persons. He is a mediator between Christ and each of his monk-disciples. It is through him that Christ reaches into the life of the monk: his word and command come to the monk through the abbot’s voice. In him the monk must—by faith—see Christ personified and, as it were, newly made incarnate in quasi-sacramental fashion. The entire p
urpose of this relationship is educative, in the sense of total spiritual formation. The monastic tradition knew by experience how difficult it is for a Christian, despite good will, to follow God’s law and come to salvation unaided. The normal way of working out one’s salvation is to learn from another human being who has himself made the journey and is able to guide another along the right path. The abbot is primarily the spiritual father who provides such direction—this is his chief reason for being. He is seen in terms of the biblical tradition of wisdom teacher, prophet and apostle, and of the concept of spiritual fatherhood that grew out of it in the early Church.
Since the father-analogy rests upon the transmission of teaching as primary analogue, the abbot’s relationship to Christ, on the one hand, and to each monk, on the other, can also be described as doctor, ‘teacher,’ but one who teaches a doctrine that he has himself received from Christ, the real Teacher. The abbot is only a mediator. The same may be said of the images of shepherd and steward: these biblical metaphors also underscore the abbot’s position as mediator. His authority is delegated; he is functioning on another’s behalf. The coenobium exists in order to lead men to salvation by showing them Christ, his teaching and his will. Any other goal it sets for itself is secondary and must remain subordinate to this supreme end. It is a school, a place where people come together for their own formation at the hands of a master, a teacher qualified to guide them. Its purpose is achieved to the extent that the ideal is realized in practice. On the one hand, the abbot must be another Christ, a man of authentic and profound Christian conviction and experience, so thoroughly molded by the Word of God that his very being as well as his speech proclaims it unceasingly; a man with a clear understanding that his essential task is the formation of his disciples. The monk, on the other hand, must not only come with this purpose in view but maintain it throughout his life, and, through all the dura et aspera, keep firm his faith that the abbot represents and functions as Christ for him.
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