The Rule as a working text

This Rule has been written in order that, by practising it in monasteries, we may show that we have attained some degree of virtue and the rudiments of monastic observance.” (RB 73.1)

Recently, I have been attempting to explain to myself why the Rule of St Benedict, a short fifteen-hundred-year-old text, should have so much appeal. Ways of understanding have changed, between the time of writing and the present day, but it seems to me that Benedict put his finger on the pulse of what has not changed, i.e. what it is to be human, and from this awareness he produced a working text, outlining a system of human behaviour and its management, that is basic and timeless in its application. As a working text its function is to aid those who follow it to become the Christ-like subjects that God would have them be. This involves a holistic undertaking which requires the prompting of the Holy Spirit and the grace to gain sanctification by practice.

So, for me, the Rule of St Benedict is primarily concerned with the performance of practices and thus it is about the human body in action. I use the term ‘body’ here to refer to the individual as a whole: that is not only to the materiality of human flesh but also to the thoughts and emotions which it produces. Thinking and feeling, being less perceivable than physical conduct, have a tendency to be cloaked by the observable yet they are the impetuses that move the body to action. Thus these thoughts and emotions, as the drivers of action and the motivators of practice, cannot be separated from discernible behaviour. From this I might argue that the catchphrase ‘you are what you do’ is all very well but what you are seen to do is in response to what you think and feel and thus, by extension, requires the acknowledgement of thinking and feeling as actions in their own right. The Rule of St Benedict makes just such an acknowledgement and, in the light of this, proposes practices that, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, form and transform individuals through the effort of working on their own bodies: thoughts, feelings and conduct.

These practices are techniques of the self which allow individuals to constitute themselves as subjects within and through systems of knowledge: in this instance the subject is a monastic (monk, nun or oblate) and the system is Christian monasticism. So, how is the self constituted according to the Benedictine Rule? How does one acquire a Benedictine identity? Again, I think this is a practical issue and the Rule is direct in its no nonsense approach – no metaphysical meanderings, no mystical connotations or pious notions – it simply emphasises what has to be done and provides what is often referred to as a ‘toolbox’ (RB 4) which is a list of what is required to do the job. But then there is the question of how to use the tools: there has to be a means of application. This means, or method, is delineated in the following three chapters (RB 5, 6 & 7) and again practice looms large i.e. the practice of Obedience, the practice of Silence, the practice of Humility. With the help of God’s grace, these activities are more than mere conduct and involve internal commitment and decisions of a spiritual nature, all of which make for the transformation of the self.

Anyway, there you have it, my quick take on the Rule of St Benedict. For me, it is a framework for a way of life that prioritises practice. Life presents problems, the most unwieldy of which seem to arise from a sense of self and Benedict’s pragmatic formulations for the management of self, with the emphasis on prayer and community, seem to constitute, in my case, a much needed blueprint. So, here I am reading the Rule and practising. I hope it is, in terms of current cultural theory, a case of, the text writes itself on the body and the body understands itself in terms of the text. Why I should be drawn to follow the Rule of St Benedict remains a little mysterious but it is, in part, because the text has enduring truth and simplicity. St Benedict, in line with contemporary philosophical thought, says some sensible things about the body’s life and the world it lives in; and this everyday sensibleness, conserved in the Saint’s overriding directive to prioritise on the love of God, is about as sensible as I can manage to get.

Gloria McAdam

Oblate of Stanbrook Abbey