Sister Mary Clair, MICM
Saint Benedict subiaco
C
rossing the hills between Enfi de and the rocky gorge of the river Anion, Benedict came into a lonely and deserted tract of land. This uninhabited place with fresh water and rocky caves was just what he was looking for. As Benedict rambled through the forests, exploring his new home, he discovered a monk who had also climbed up into this quiet spot to pray. His name was Romanus, and he lived in a monastery near the river.
Romanus invited Benedict to his monastery, but the young hermit was determined to stay in the wilderness. Delayed once by Cyrilla, he was not about to let his new friend keep him back from it either. Romanus agreed to keep Benedict’s location a secret and promised to bring food for Benedict’s daily nourishment. He also provided Benedict with a habit or tunic of animal skin, bound at the waist with a cord.
We can imagine, but we can hardly realize, the story of those three years of silent prayer, of struggle, and victory…”
Modeling his life after the heroic solitude of the Eastern Fathers in the desert, Benedict lived alone in the silence of Subiaco, giving his whole soul to God in continual prayer, watching, and fasting. “We can imagine, but we can hardly realize, the story of those three years of silent prayer, of struggle, and victory…”
The sun rose above the silent walls of the valley and shone on this peaceful existence. The stars too, found him still at work in the school of prayer and contemplation. Day followed day as the cold winter rains beat down into his cave; the beauty of spring rose to find him growing every day in the knowledge of God and knowledge of self. “It was in this long apprenticeship of prayer that he acquired that profound attitude of soul, that concentration of all upon that thought of God and His all-seeing eye, which was to be the pervading and transforming motive of his later teaching.”
Only two stories have come down to us from Saint Gregory regarding Benedict’s years of solitude. The first is the bell: Romanus would bring Benedict a piece of bread every day, a share of his own daily portion. Between Romanus’ monastery and Benedict’s cave was a precipitous cliff. Instead of going the long way around, Romanus would attach the bread to a rope, and lower it down to Benedict, announcing its arrival by the sound of the bell attached to the end. One day, Satan, the old enemy, “envying the charity of the one and the meal of the other, threw down a stone and broke the bell.” Saint Gregory is quite casual in his narration; it may be concluded that constant harassment from the devil was just part of Benedict’s daily lot.
Another story is told of how, when Benedict was at prayer, Satan came to trouble him in the form of a small black bird that fluttered around his face. It came so close and was so persistent that Benedict could have reached out and grabbed it. Instead, he made the Sign of the Cross, and the bird immediately departed. After this, Benedict was severely tempted by an image of a beautiful woman he had once seen, presumably in his days in Rome. Saint Gregory finishes the narration: “This picture inflamed the servant of God with such a heat of passion that his breast could hardly contain it. Almost overcome by desire, he was on the point of abandoning his solitude. Then suddenly, being moved by heavenly grace, he returned to himself, and seeing nearby a dense thicket of nettles and briars, threw off his cloak and cast himself into the sharp thorns and stinging nettles, thrashing in them until he emerged with his body torn and wounded…but his passions were subdued. From this time forth, as he afterward used to tell his disciples, the temptation of lust was so conquered in him that never again did he feel such a thing.”
This decisive battle proved the end of his “novitiate” of three years. God intervened, and Benedict’s mission to the world began. After three faithful years, Romanus passed away, taking his secret about Benedict to the grave, because no one in his monastery took his place in bringing food to Benedict. During Lent that year, Benedict was fasting hard for the holy season and would have died of hunger, but heaven intervened.
“Thou preparest a feast for thyself, but My servant in yonder place is tormented with hunger.”
A local priest, having prepared a meal for the feast of Easter, had a vision of Benedict in his cave. He heard a voice saying, “Thou preparest a feast for thyself, but My servant in yonder place is tormented with hunger.” The priest immediately arose and set out to find the servant of God. Over rugged hills and down into valleys, he sought Benedict. On finding him at last, after blessing God, the two feasted together in honor of the glory of Christ’s Resurrection. After some time in heavenly conversation, the priest returned to his church, and Benedict to his solitude.
Now the secret was out. Benedict was discovered after this when shepherds from the nearby countryside happened upon him while he was in prayer. Approaching, they found the unusual young man amiable and easy to talk to. He spoke kindly to them, and his words spiritually inspired them so much, that they came every day to see him. These daily conversations “were of great benefit to the rough and ignorant peasants. They had lived before in a scarcely human manner; they now came to the knowledge of the Christian faith and its practices.”
It did not take long for the name of Benedict to become well-known throughout the region, and many came to meet him. Those who came “brought him food for his body while they carried away in their hearts the food of life that fell from his lips.”
Benedict the Abbot
Rumors of Benedict’s holiness went undisputed and spread far and wide. Close by was an abbey of sorts, with a lax and scandalous group of so-called monks. Upon the death of their abbot, the group begged Benedict to take his place, but he adamantly refused, admonishing them that their way of life and his would never agree. Unwilling to accept his refusal, they persisted in petitioning him, apparently looking for reform. Eventually, Benedict agreed and accompanied them to their monastery at Vicovaro.
“He severely rebuked such as he found indulging in practices which were inconsistent with their vocation.”
To Benedict, religious life was a complete commitment and he took his responsibility seriously. He was not about to acquiesce to the scandalous inconsistencies the members were accustomed to in their fidelity to God. Trying to shape them into men worthy of the name of monks, he “severely rebuked such as he found indulging in practices which were inconsistent with their vocation.”
It can only be supposed what the nature of the evils Benedict found among these monks, but whatever it was, his holiness was a galling and unbearable presence in their midst. The monks regretted their choice of their new abbot. Murmuring among themselves, their attitude soon escalated to such fi erce anger and hatred that they plotted to murder him.
It is shocking to the mind of a 21st-century reader to find this behavior in a monastery, but these were fierce and turbulent times. There had been years of invasion by barbarian hordes, bloody wars, and famine; there were loose morals and general corruption, as well as the instability of monastic life. All contributed to making up the brutal 6th-century mindset: What is wrong with doing away with an innocent life, especially when it is so contemptible?
The derelict monks decided that poisoning him would be the best way to execute their evil design. At dinner one evening, the server brought Benedict the customary glass of wine, only this time it was tainted with a lethal dose of poison. Benedict, as was his custom, raised his hand to bless it, and the glass shattered “as if Benedict had hurled a stone at it instead of a blessing.”
He understood immediately what the glass had contained. Raising his eyes to the cowering monks he said, “My brethren, may Almighty God have mercy on you. Why have you treated me thus? Did I not tell you before that my way of life and yours would never agree? Go and seek an abbot according to your way of life. For me, you can no longer have.”
This event is commemorated on the powerful Saint Benedict medal. Around the margin of the back of the medal, the letters V R S N S M V – S M Q L I V B are the initial letters of a Latin prayer of exorcism against Satan: Vade retro Satana! Nunquam suade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas! (Begone Satan! Never tempt me with your vanities! What you offer me is evil. Drink the poison yourself!)
With these words, Benedict left Vicovaro and returned to his beloved retreat in the rocks of Subiaco. His solitude must have been all the sweeter after this strange turn of events. One would think that after this experience, he would have been more determined to hide far from men and mingle as little as possible with the outside world, but this is not what happened. For Benedict, his years of retreat had not soured him, nor hardened his heart against the needs of his fellow men.
Far from that, on returning to Subiaco, Benedict gave himself more generously to those who sought him, listening to them and instructing them as a wise and prudent father. He revealed a deep understanding of human nature and the need for strong leadership in the ways of God.
He realized that his work lay beyond his own solitude and private instruction of the poor rustics who sought him; rather, he was called to a more expansive labor. He could no longer refuse the requests of those men who sought to follow him, leading a life completely devoted to God. He was to establish and reform the concept of monastic life to its fundamental meaning.
Benedict, offering to God his whole life to do His Will, left his solitude. The one-time hermit began to gather a community; the young abbot was about to become the father of Western Monasticism.