The Rule of Benedict

by Joan Chittister

  In the age of Benedict, however, the corporal punishment of children was a given. It was a given, in fact, in the homes and schools of our own time until, in the late twentieth century, social psychology detected the relationship between violence in society and violence against children. Only in our time has it finally become questionable for a teacher to whip a student or for a parent to spank a child. The question is, then, should this chapter now be discounted in the Rule? Children don’t enter monastic communities anymore and children are not raised in them. The answer surely is no. The real lesson of the chapter is not that young people should be beaten. The continuing value of the chapter is that it reminds us quite graphically that no one approach is equally effective with everyone. No two people are exactly the same. In bringing people to spiritual adulthood we must use every tool we have: love, listening, counsel, confrontation, prayer that God may intervene where our own efforts are useless, and, finally, if all else fails, amputation from the group.

  The real point of this and all seven preceding chapters of the penal code of the Rule is that Benedictine punishment is always meant to heal, never to destroy; to cure, not to crush.

  CHAPTER 31

  QUALIFICATIONS OF THE MONASTERY CELLARER

  March 8 – July 8 – Nov. 7

  As cellarer of the monastery, there should be chosen from the community someone who is wise, mature in conduct, temperate, not an excessive eater, not proud, excitable, offensive, dilatory, or wasteful, but God-fearing, and like a parent to the whole community. The cellarer will take care of everything, but will do nothing without an order from the prioress or abbot. Let the cellarer keep to those orders.

  Benedictine spirituality refuses to glorify a life of false frugality or fabricated irritations. The person who handles the supplies of the monastery, the cellarer, is to distribute the goods of the monastery calmly, kindly, without favoritism, and under the guidance of the abbot or prioress, not to put people under obligation to them or to wreak vengeance on those who rebuff them.

  The cellarer does more than distribute goods. The cellarer becomes a model for the community, a person who is to be “temperate,” not a person who is “an excessive eater,” not someone in other words with rich tastes and a limitless appetite for material things. Benedict wants the cellarer to be someone who knows the difference between needs and desires, who will see that the community has what is necessary but does not begin the long, slippery road into excess and creature comforts and indolence and soft-souledness. In the house of Benedict, the principles of the life live in ways no words can convey, in the people who carry them out. The call to be what we say we believe becomes a measure of authenticity for teachers, parents, and administrators everywhere.

  The cellarer should not annoy the members. If anyone happens to make an unreasonable demand, the cellarer should not reject that person with disdain and cause distress, but reasonably and humbly deny the improper request. Let cellarers keep watch over their own souls, ever mindful of that saying of the apostle: “They who serve well secure a good standing for themselves” (1 Tim. 3:13). The cellarer must show every care and concern for the sick, young, guests, and the poor, knowing for certain that they will be held accountable for all of them on the day of judgment. The cellarer will regard all utensils and goods of the monastery as sacred vessels of the altar, aware that nothing is to be neglected. Cellarers should not be prone to greed, not be wasteful and extravagant with the goods of the monastery, but should do everything with moderation and according to the order of the prioress or abbot.

  If chapter 31 is anything at all, it is a treatment of human relationships. The one with power is not to annoy the powerless. The one with needs is not to demand. The chapter stands as stark warning to people in positions of authority and responsibility, whatever their station. They are to “keep watch of their own souls,” guarding themselves against the pitfalls of any position: arrogance, disinterest, unkindness, aloofness from the very people the position is designed to serve. Then, to make the point clear, Benedict describes the people who are not to get overlooked for the sake of efficiency in the bureaucratic game of hurry up and wait. And they are everybody who cannot possibly be expected to want things when the office is open: the sick, the young, the guests, and the poor. The one who has power and resources, the Rule says, must know for certain that “they will be held accountable for all of them on the day of judgment.” As will we all who find ourselves too busy, too insensitive, too uncaring to see that the goods of the earth are given to the poor ones who have as much claim on the Garden as we but no way to get the staples of life for themselves. As will we all who use our positions to diminish the people in behalf of whom we bear responsibility by wearing them down and wearing them out while we dally with their needs. The spouse who lets the door swell to sticking before fixing it or serves the meal an hour after its time; the employer who never buys the new file cabinet; the superior who never sees the staff personally—all fail in the Benedictine spirituality of service for the sake of the person that is taught in this chapter.

  But the cellarer must do more than take care of people. A Benedictine cellarer has a responsibility to take care of things, too. Waste is not a Benedictine virtue. Planned obsolescence is not a Benedictine goal. Disposability is not a Benedictine quality. A Benedictine soul is a soul that takes care of things, that polishes wood and scrapes away rust and keeps a room clean and never puts feet on the furniture and mulches the garden and leaves trees standing and “treats all utensils and goods of the monastery like the sacred vessels of the altar.” A Benedictine cares for the earth and all things well. The Benedictine heart practiced ecology before it was a word.

  March 9 – July 9 – Nov. 8

  Above all, let the cellarer be humble. If goods are not available to meet a request, the cellarer will offer a kind word in reply, for it is written: “A kind word is better than the best gift” (Sir. 18:17). Cellarers should take care of all that the prioress or abbot entrusts to them, and not presume to do what they have forbidden. They will provide the members their allotted amount of food without any pride or delay, lest they be led astray. For cellarers must remember what the Scripture says that person deserves “who leads one of the little ones astray” (Matt. 18:6).

  If the community is rather large, the cellarer should be given helpers, so that with assistance it becomes possible to perform the duties of the office calmly. Necessary items are to be requested and given at the proper times, so that no one may be disquieted or distressed in the house of God.

  The cellarer gets a lesson from Benedict that we all need to learn sometime in life: we have a responsibility to serve others “without any pride or delay, lest they be led astray.” It is not right, in other words, to tax other people’s nervous systems, to try other people’s virtues, to burden other people’s already weary lives in order to satisfy our own need to be important. We don’t have to lead them into anger and anxiety, frustration and despair. We don’t need to keep them waiting; we don’t need to argue their requests; we don’t need to count out every weight to the ounce, every bag to the gram, every dollar to the penny. We can give freedom and joy with every gift we give or we can give guilt and frugality. The person with a Benedictine tenor learns here to err on the side of largesse of spirit.

  CHAPTER 32

  THE TOOLS AND GOODS OF THE MONASTERY

  March 10 – July 10 – Nov. 9

  The goods of the monastery, that is, its tools, clothing, or anything else, should be entrusted to members whom the prioress or abbot appoints and in whose manner of life they have confidence. The abbot or prioress will, as they see fit, issue to them the various articles to be cared for and collected after use. The prioress and abbot will maintain a list of these, so that when the members succeed one another in their assigned tasks, they may be aware of what they hand out and what they receive back.

  Whoever fails to keep the things belonging to the monastery clean or treats them carelessly should be reproved. If the
y do not amend, let them be subjected to the discipline of the rule.

  To those who think for a moment that the spiritual life is an excuse to ignore the things of the world, to go through time suspended above the mundane, to lurch from place to place with a balmy head and a saccharine smile on the face, let this chapter be fair warning. Benedictine spirituality is as much about good order, wise management, and housecleaning as it is about the meditative and the immaterial dimensions of life. Benedictine spirituality sees the care of the earth and the integration of prayer and work, body and soul, as essential parts of the journey to wholeness that answers the emptiness in each of us.

  CHAPTER 33

  MONASTICS AND PRIVATE OWNERSHIP

  March 11 – July 11 – Nov. 10

  Above all, this evil practice [of private ownership] must be uprooted and removed from the monastery. We mean that without an order from the prioress or abbot, no members may presume to give, receive, or retain anything as their own, nothing at all—not a book, writing tablets, or stylus—in short not a single item, especially since monastics may not have the free disposal even of their own bodies and wills. For their needs, they are to look to the prioress or abbot of the monastery, and are not allowed anything which the prioress or abbot has not given or permitted. “All things should be the common possession of all, as it is written, so that no one presumes ownership of anything” (Acts 4:32).

  But if any members are caught indulging in this most evil practice, they should be warned a first and a second time. If they do not amend, let them be subjected to punishment.

  There are two concerns at issue in this chapter of the Rule: the development of personal freedom and the preservation of human community. Private ownership touches both of them.

  The Hasidim tell the story of the visitor who went to see a very famous rabbi and was shocked at the sparsity, the bareness, the emptiness of his little one-room house. “Why don’t you have any furniture?” the visitor asked. “Why don’t you?” the rabbi said. “Well, because I’m only passing through,” the visitor said. “Well, so am I,” the rabbi answered.

  On the journey to heaven, things tie us to the earth. We can’t move to another city because we have a huge mortgage on the house in this one. We can’t take care of a sick neighbor because we are too busy taking care of our own hedges. We go poor giving big parties in the hope for big promotions. We get beholden to the people who give big parties back. We take things and hoard things and give things to control our little worlds and the things wind up controlling us. They clutter our space; they crimp our hearts; they sour our souls. Benedict says that the answer is that we not allow ourselves to have anything beyond life’s simple staples in the first place and that we not use things—not even the simplest things—to restrict the life of another by giving gifts that tie another person down. Benedictine simplicity, then, is not a deprivation. It frees us for all of life’s surprises.

  Simplicity is more than the key to personal freedom, however. Simplicity is also the basis of human community. Common ownership and personal dependence are the foundations of mutual respect. If I know that I literally cannot exist without you, without your work, without your support, without your efforts in our behalf, without your help, as is true in any community life, then I cannot bury myself away where you and your life are unimportant to me. I cannot fail to meet your needs, as you have met my needs, when the dearth in you appeals for the gifts in me. It is my ability to respond to your needs, in fact, that is my claim, my guarantee, of your presence in my own life. In community life, we genuinely need one another. We rely on one another. Community life is based on mutual giving.

  The family, the relationship that attempts to reconcile the idea of community with the independent and the independently wealthy, the perfectly, the totally, the smugly self-sufficient, is no community, no family, no relationship at all. Why stay and work a problem out with people when you can simply leave them? And never notice that they’re gone.

  CHAPTER 34

  DISTRIBUTION OF GOODS ACCORDING TO NEED

  March 12 – July 12 – Nov. 11

  It is written: “Distribution was made as each had need” (Acts 4:35). By this we do not imply that there should be favoritism—God forbid—but rather consideration for weaknesses. Whoever needs less should thank God and not be distressed, but those who need more should feel humble because of their weakness, not self-important because of the kindness shown them. In this way all the members will be at peace. First and foremost, there must be no word or sign of the evil of grumbling, no manifestation of it for any reason at all. If, however, anyone is caught grumbling, let them undergo more severe discipline.

  Destitution and deprivation are not monastic virtues. Benedict immediately follows the chapter on the pitfalls of private ownership with a chapter insisting that people be given what they need to get through life. Benedictine spirituality is not based on a military model of conformity. Pianists need pianos, writers need computers, principals need to go to meetings, administrators need to get away from the group every once in a while, workers need places to work, the sick need special kinds of food, people with bad backs need the proper kinds of beds. Benedictine spirituality says get them and don’t notice the differences; get them and don’t count the cost; get them and don’t complain about it. Just thank God that your own needs have yet to reach the level of such a burden.

  It’s an important chapter in a world where poverty is clearly an evil and not to be spiritualized while the children of the earth die with bloated stomachs. The person whose spirituality is fed by the Rule of Benedict would be acutely concerned about that, painfully disturbed about that, as was Benedict. The Benedictine spirit would not rest, in fact, until the imbalance was righted and the needs were met.

  CHAPTER 35

  KITCHEN SERVERS OF THE WEEK

  March 13 – July 13 – Nov. 12

  The members should serve one another. Consequently, no members will be excused from kitchen service unless they are sick or engaged in some important business of the monastery, for such service increases reward and fosters love. Let those who are not strong have help so that they may serve without distress, and let everyone receive help as the size of the community or local conditions warrant. If the community is rather large, the cellarer should be excused from kitchen service, and, as we have said, those should also be excused who are engaged in important business. Let all the rest serve one another in love.

  Benedict leaves very little to the imagination or fancy of the spiritually pretentious who know everything there is to know about spiritual theory and think that is enough. Benedict says that the spiritual life is not simply what we think about; it is what we do because of what we think. It is possible, in fact, to spend our whole lives thinking about the spiritual life and never develop one. We can study church history forever and never become holier for the doing. There are theology courses all over the world that have nothing whatsoever to do with the spiritual life. In the same way, we may think we are a community or assume we are a family but if we do not serve one another we are, at best, a collection of people who live alone together.

  So Benedict chooses the family meal to demonstrate that point of life where the Eucharist becomes alive for us outside of chapel. It is in kitchen service that we prepare good things for the ones we love and sustain them and clean up after them. It was woman’s work and Roman men were told to do it so that they, too, with their own hands and over their own hot fires, could know what it takes to spend their own lives to give life to the other.

  On Saturday the ones who are completing [the kitchen] work will do the washing. They are to wash the towels which the members use to wipe their hands and feet. Both the one who is ending service and the one who is about to begin are to wash the feet of everyone. The utensils required for the kitchen service are to be washed and returned intact to the cellarer, who in turn issues them to the one beginning the next week. In this way the cellarer will know what is handed out and what is
received back.

  Community love and accountability are focused, demonstrated, and modeled at the community meal. In every other thing we do, more private in scope, more personal in process, our private agendas so easily nibble away at the transcendent purpose of the work that there is often little left of the philosophical meaning of the task except our own translation of it. In the Middle Ages, the tale goes, a traveler asked three hard-at-work stone masons what they were doing. The first said, “I am sanding down this block of marble.” The second said, “I am preparing a foundation.” The third said, “I am building a cathedral.” Remembering the greater cause of why we are doing what we do is one of life’s more demanding difficulties. But that’s not the case in a kitchen or in a dining room that is shaped around the icon of the Last Supper where the One who is first washes the feet of the ones who are to follow. “Do you know what I have just done?” the Scripture reads. “As I have done, so you must do.”

  In Benedict’s dining room, where everyone serves and everyone washes feet and everyone returns the utensils clean and intact for the next person’s use, love and accountability become the fulcrum of community life.

  March 14 – July 14 – Nov. 13

  An hour before mealtime, the kitchen workers of the week should each receive a drink and some bread over and above the regular portion, so that at mealtime, they may serve one another without grumbling or hardship. On solemn days, however, they should wait until after the dismissal.