Saint Benedict’s Change of Heart
It is easy to read the story of St Benedict and St Scholastica as told in the Dialogues of St. Gregory the Great, and see it merely as a charming example of medieval light-relief. Yet there are profound aspects to this story. I would like to consider one here.
Sometimes those who are sincerely given to God feel uneasy about deep human affection, and wonder how God regards such a relationship. The Benedict-Scholastica story suggests to me that perhaps St. Benedict himself wasn’t too sure in this area. Scholastica was ahead of him here, as our story makes clear.
We know that Benedict and Scholastica were brother and sister, both consecrated to God in monastic life. They have each other’s understanding and support in the monastic venture, doubly precious because of their shared family history. In the famous story of their final meeting, they enjoy a day-long visit together and an evening meal. The whole time they speak heart to heart and with great joy about things of the Spirit.
When the hour begins to grow late, Scholastica is loath to end their visit. She begs her brother to stay the night so that they can continue their joyful conversation. He declines, and says, rather peremptorily: “What are you talking about, my sister? Under no circumstances can I stay outside my cell.” Full stop. Obedience to the Rule must come before everything else, he seems to say. Scholastica, however, is her own person, and views the circumstance in a way her holy brother does not yet understand. She turns unhesitatingly to God and prays.
Now we have reached the turning point of the tale. We do not know what Scholastica says in her prayer, we only know that she folds her hands on the table, lowers her head to her hands and quietly weeps. Scholastica’s tears I think deserve to be taken seriously as an expression both of her spiritual depth, and of her deep distress. Surely, she is concerned for her brother’s soul on the one hand: he really doesn’t get it at all. He does not seem to understand that the love that they share is a gift of the Holy Spirit and a means of union with God. It should be treasured and not regarded as a threat to monastic discipline. At the same time, she must have felt frustrated: she can’t seem to get through to him! It’s also quite possible that she felt a bit hurt. But I imagine, too, that she had additional concerns about the effect her brother’s attitude would have on the monks under his care. He is a father of souls, after all. His monks would need his help to understand the relationship between human love and divine love. This is enough reason to weep, it seems to me.
Shortly, she raises her head. Benedict sees that she is weeping, and simultaneously realises that outdoors there is such a torrential rain storm as to make returning to his monastery impossible that night. St. Benedict then exclaims – and tellingly: “Sister, what have you done?” Benedict knows his sister’s spiritual power. He knows that the rain storm is the result of her prayer. It is not a mere coincidence. She then replies without down-playing her communion with God, “I asked you, and you would not listen. So I asked my God, and he heard my prayer. Therefore, leave me if you can, brother….”
I asked my God and he heard my prayer. She obtained more from God because she loved more, as St. Gregory comments. I think it is worth offering a paraphrase here: Scholastica had greater understanding of the sanctity of human love. Human love is precious to God, and God, quite simply, is on Scholastica’s side. He intervenes to teach her brother that human love that is based on divine love is the greatest treasure we can have in this life. Gregory the Great is discreet about St. Benedict’s change of heart. But, once it is clear that God has made it impossible to return to his monastery, he proceeds to enjoy himself: he stays with his sister, and they continue their heart to heart conversation till morning, to their mutual joy and encouragement.
Johanna Caton
Oblate of Minster
