Sister Mary Clair, MICM
Saint Benedict Prayer
and
Work
Originally, monastic life began in the East. The great Desert Fathers, Saints Antony, Paul, Pachomius, and Macarius, are some of the venerable names that come to mind of those heroic solitaries. Terrifying in their austerity but beloved in their simplicity, these towering figures paved a way of life that was given, whole and entire, to God alone. They had no rule but the Gospel of Christ. Our Lord Himself was their Master, their Guide, their Companion; the measure of their holiness was their likeness to Him.
They lived a spartan, solitary life. It was a life of battle against the world, the flesh, and the devil that makes the battles of flesh and blood look like child’s play. Saint Benedict was undoubtedly familiar with the famous lives and sayings of the Desert Fathers when he set out on his solitary journey to God.
Saint Antony of the Desert was the first in the East to organize monks in a cenobitic way of life, wherein monks lived together in a monastic community.
“There were no vows except those that the individual may have taken privately. Nor was there any religious habit in the modern sense.”
Saint Basil introduced cenobitic life in the West. His rule was more moderate than that of Saint Antony and more detailed; monks lived in a common habitation, ate together in a refectory at set hours, and gathered again for Mass and the Divine Office. Saint Augustine, too, came up with a rule to organize the monks in his diocese. Saint Martin of Tours founded a monastery of men, as did the saintly John Cassian. Religious life in the West was, generally speaking, rather capricious and unorganized. “There were no vows except those that the individual may have taken privately. Nor was there any religious habit in the modern sense.”
There was great individuality; it was left to the individual monk to “add his austerities according to his own zeal and courage and strength.” One monastery would practice great austerity, yet another would be so lax and unruly that the monks were such in name only. Here and there, an abbot of great personal holiness and force of character could establish a fervent house, but without this strong leadership, a community could quickly slip into laxity and even depravity, as Vicovaro demonstrated.
“If there is a society, there has to be a common bond. A monastic society, if it is to be a true society and not an aggregation of individuals, must stand on certain agreed principles. Saint Benedict, in his opening chapter, gives what he conceives to be the basic elements of social monastic life.”
Though young, Benedict was wise and wanted to avoid the situation into which the monastic institution had fallen. When he wrote his Rule, Benedict identified four types of monks. He strove to build his monasteries from the example of the first type, called “Cenobites.” These men lived as a “constituted family,” followed the same rule, with an abbot at their head and stability of place. Dom von Zeller writes in his commentary on the Rule that, “if there is a society, there has to be a common bond. A monastic society, if it is to be a true society and not an aggregation of individuals, must stand on certain agreed principles. Saint Benedict, in his opening chapter, gives what he conceives to be the basic elements of social monastic life.”
The second type he listed was the anchorite or hermit who lived a solitary life. These men received a blessing and a habit from a spiritual master who would direct them. They also needed to provide food and other needs for themselves. This life attracted many dreamers who did not persevere.
The third type was called “Sarabaites.” Saint Benedict wrote that they, “have been tried by no rule nor experience but, being as soft as lead, still keep with the world in their works, while, as their tonsure shows, they lie to God. They live in twos or threes, or even singly, without a shepherd, in their own sheepfolds and not in the Lord’s. Their law is the desire for self-gratification: whatever enters their mind or appeals to them, that they call holy; what they dislike, they regard as unlawful.” These men only looked like monks. Finally, the last type was called Gyrovagues, who Von Zeller says were more “debased” than the last group and “no better than a tramp, without even the tramp’s excuses.” Saint Benedict is explicit in his detestation for these roving “monks.” “Of their miserable conduct” he writes, “it is better to be silent than to speak.”
Saint Benedict was now a seasoned soldier, having spent three years as an anchorite and experienced the dissolute monks at Vicovaro. He could see clearly the requirements needed to stabilize the monastic institution for all who sought union with God in the community through a life of prayer and sacrifice.
Men came to Benedict from all walks of life such as nobles from Rome, barely civilized barbarians, illiterate peasants, men both young and old – all desiring to give themselves to the service of God and His Church, seeking out the guidance of this strong and capable leader.
Here began a movement that would reform the Church and bring life to society through the ages of the faith. A community formed, bound in charity with no distinction between classes of society. The warring barbarian laid away his weapons, and the nobleman laid aside his royal robes and worked side by side praying, chanting psalms, cultivating the land, and building their monasteries. They were all united, praising God together and learning the way of perfection through humility and holy obedience to their Father Benedict.
“He practiced himself what he wrote.”
Benedict was himself a living example to his disciples. Saint Gregory assures us of this when he says: “He practiced himself what he wrote.” He was the monk he desired his disciples to be: fervent in prayer, diligent in his duties, detached from the world, and in love with God. Benedict strove to set the example in everything. He was a man of deep prayer, unshaken faith, and abounding hope. Though born a noble, he voluntarily showed his monks how to work. He was the architect, the carpenter, the farmer, the teacher. He revolutionized life when he showed the sanctifying goodness of hard labor; there were no masters and servants in the monastery.
For Benedict, work and prayer went hand in hand. The monks were to be self-sufficient. They built their own buildings, grew their own food, and sought no reward but the satisfaction of knowing that, through obedience and grace, they resembled a little more the hardworking Carpenter of Nazareth. There were no soft, delicate hands in Subiaco. Benedict would later write that, “Idleness is the enemy of the soul.”
During these first years at Subiaco, Benedict gained experience with men and matters that helped him develop his Rule. Illustrious families from Rome came to see him. Among these was the Roman patrician Tertullus, who sent his seven-year-old son, Placid, to be educated and trained in the monastic life as an offering to God. Another noble Roman senator named Aequitus sent his son, Maurus, for the same reason. Maurus was a few years older than Placid but was already distinguished for his wisdom and purity. He would later become Benedict’s right-hand man.
These, and other young boys, were accepted by the holy abbot as “Oblates.” The name oblate was the name given to those who were not yet old enough to embrace the vows and take on the whole difficult life of the monk. They wore a simple tunic, but would eventually receive the tonsure and habit and be fully incorporated as a brother into the community. Maurus and Placid were especially dear to Benedict and witnessed some of his most famous miracles.
Before long, Benedict opened twelve monastic homes, each having twelve monks under the leadership of an appointed abbot. Benedict would visit these various houses, forming them by instruction, and exhorting like a true father.
Three of Benedict’s twelve monasteries were built high on the rocky mountainside. To get water, the monks had to climb down the rocks and haul it up. It was a tedious job. One day, a group of monks came to Benedict, requesting to construct buildings closer to the lake in the valley. Benedict listened to them with patience, then sent them away with gentle sympathy.
That night, when all were asleep, Benedict arose and, taking the young Placid with him, climbed the rocky path to the place where the monasteries were built. Here, Benedict knelt to pray, and his small, bewildered companion knelt obediently by his side. The twinkling stars and deep blue of the Italian sky shone brightly on the high mountain summit. Benedict was motionless in prayer for a long time, then rose, and piled three stones together where he and Placid had prayed and then returned to their monastery.
“Go to the top of the mountain, and in the place where you shall find three stones laid together, pierce the rock. Cannot God almighty, by His power, give you water from the top of the mountain and relieve you of your weary toil?”
The next day, the monks came again and repeated their request to build close to the lake. “Go to the top of the mountain,” said the saint, “and in the place where you shall find three stones laid together, pierce the rock. Cannot God almighty, by His power, give you water from the top of the mountain and relieve you of your weary toil?”
The monks returned to find it just as the abbot had told them: an abundant stream of water gushed from the spot where Benedict had prayed. It was a constant resource and supplied for all their needs.
Another day, while Benedict was praying at his monastery, he suddenly cried out, “Brother Maurus! Run quickly to the lake, for Placid is in danger of being drowned!” Maurus immediately took off towards the lake. He continued running till he reached Placid, who was drowning in his final struggle in the middle of the lake. Maurus grabbed him and brought him safely to shore. He did not realize until he was on dry land, with Placid in his arms, that he had walked on the water. Trembling all over, he reported to Benedict what had happened. “The miracle was wrought by your obedience,” said Benedict. “No Father,” was the humble reply, “it was by your command and prayers.” They went back and forth, in this gentle rivalry of humility. Little Placid spoke up to decide the matter: “When I was being carried away, I saw the cowl of my Father and Abbot over my head, and it was he who drew me out of the water.”
Although visibly blessed, Benedict followed the Crucified, so his difficulties, though never insurmountable, were ever-present. Continual warfare against the devil was part of Benedict’s daily lot. The devil sought at every turn to destroy the holy work of Benedict and his monks.
Near Subiaco lived a wicked and dissolute priest named Florentius. The holiness of the saint was a galling reproach to the pernicious life of Florentius. Instead of humbly reforming his life at the sight of such sanctity, he became devoured with bitterness and jealousy towards Benedict. He made up his mind to do away with the holy abbot.
This second Judas sent Benedict an “Eulogia,” which was blessed bread sent as a sign of peace and spiritual friendship. The gift Florentius had prepared for Benedict was poisoned, disguising his evil deed under the guise of Christian courtesy.
Benedict received the gift but knew what it contained, whether by Divine assistance or from the practical knowledge of the giver. There was a raven who came every day to feed at his window. Benedict set the loaf before the bird, bidding it in the name of Christ, to take it far away where it could never be found. The bird hesitated, then, after some coaxing, took the loaf in its beak and flew away. It appeared again a few hours later for his usual meal from Benedict.
It is remarkable that, though still young, this was the second attempt to take Benedict’s life. Both times it was sought, not only by a fellow Christian but by a member of the clergy. Both events are commemorated on the Saint Benedict medal. On the front of the medal, on a pedestal to the right of Saint Benedict is the poisoned cup, shattered when he made the Sign of the Cross over it. On a pedestal to the left is a raven about to carry away the loaf of poisoned bread sent to Saint Benedict.
Seeing that his plans were thwarted, the depraved priest Florentius sought to attack Benedict through his monks. He sent a group of shameless women to the river within view of the monks, instructing the women to do whatever they could to tempt the monks with lustful desires as they worked in the fields.
Benedict stood his ground and held his peace when he was personally attacked, but now his young monks were being subjected to vile temptations. Knowing himself to be the cause of the wicked priest’s vicious attacks, Benedict made up his mind to leave Subiaco. Appointing Maurus as his successor, he left with young Placid and a small group of monks to search for a new home.
It was a bitter day when Benedict left the place where his life of union with God had begun and where his first band of faithful monks had joined him in pursuit of perfection. The monks who remained behind bid a sorrowful farewell to their beloved Father and Abbot. Tradition says all nature in the beautiful Anion Valley mourned the loss of the holy youth who had come so close to God amid its rocky mountains and peaceful valley.
From his balcony, the evil priest Florentius joyfully watched the small procession departing. Yet he could scarcely enjoy his victory, for at that moment, the whole house collapsed, and he was crushed in the ruins.
When news of the catastrophe reached the monastery, Maurus ran to catch up with Benedict.
