An Abbot who is worthy to be in charge of a monastery must always bear in mind what he is called and fulfil in his actions the name of one who is called greater. For he is believed to act in the place of Christ in the monastery, since he is called by his title, as the Apostle says, ‘You have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, through whom we cry, Abba! Father!’ Therefore the Abbot should not teach or ordain or command anything that lies outside the Lord's commands, far from it; but his commands and his teaching should mingle like the leaven of divine justice in the mind of his disciples. The Abbot must always remember that at the fearful judgement of God two things will be discussed: his own teaching and the obedience of his disciples. The Abbot must also realise that whatever lack of fruitfulness the Father of the family may find in his sheep will be blamed on the shepherd. And likewise if the shepherd has laboured with complete diligence over a troublesome and disobedient flock, and has expended every care over their diseased behaviour, he will be acquitted in the Lord's judgement and will say with the prophet, ‘I have not hidden your justice in my heart, but I have spoken of your truth and saving help’; ‘but they have contemptuously despised me.’ And then finally the penalty of death will swallow up the sheep who were disobedient to his care.
The word ‘abbot’ means ‘father’. The word shares the same root as the Aramaic word abba – an especially intimate term like ‘Papa’ which Jesus himself uses for the Father (Mark 14.36), and which St Paul says we should use for God (Rom. 8.15). In his consideration of the traits of a good abbot or father this basic word abba, with all its implications of both intimacy and respect, comes into play.
In the monastery the abbot holds the rank of a bishop and, as the bishop holds apostolic authority, so Benedict is clear that the abbot's authority comes from Christ himself. In this he echoes the first-century writer, Ignatius of Antioch, who said, ‘Clearly then we should regard the bishop as the Lord himself…’ Likewise the Christian father exercises authority in the family as from the Lord. St Paul commands children to ‘obey their parents in the Lord’ (Eph. 6.1–2), and thus keep the fourth commandment.
Anyone who glories in their position of power is a fool. Benedict recognizes that holding such authority over others is an awesome responsibility. The responsibility to speak and act as Christ in our families is a high calling which both lifts us up and casts us down at the same time. It lifts us up because we share in Christ's own ministry of reconciliation within our families (2 Cor. 5.18). It casts us down because we cannot ‘speak Christ’ if we don't ‘live Christ’; and how can we hope to live Christ when we are aware that nothing good lives in us? (Rom. 7.18). Benedict then casts us down further when he says that we will be held responsible for the failure of our children.
How can any father hope to fulfil such a high calling? Benedict hints at the answer in today's passage. ‘The abbot should not teach or ordain or command anything that lies outside the Lord's commands…’ In other words, the Christian father must clothe himself in Christ (Gal. 3.27) if he wishes to speak and live Christ in the home. This calls for a mysterious transaction in which we die to ourselves and live to Christ (Gal. 2.20). St Paul says this death to self is a daily requirement, and he grounds his own authority in this same identification with Christ (1 Cor. 15.31). Likewise a daily death to self is the only basis for a Christian father's authority in the home because it is through taking up our cross daily that we identify most fully with the Christ we hope to represent (Luke 9.23).
January 11
May 12
September 11
CHAPTER II
WHAT KIND OF MAN THE
ABBOT SHOULD BE (B)
When, therefore, anyone takes the name of Abbot, he should rule over his disciples with two kinds of teaching; that is to say, he must show forth all good and holy things by his words and even more by his deeds. To apt disciples he must explain the Lord's teaching by word, but to those who are hard of heart or simple of mind he must make clear the divine teaching by his actions. By his deeds he must make it clear that nothing may be done which he has taught his disciples to be forbidden, lest while he preaches to others he should merit rejection himself, and God should some day say to him as he sins, ‘What business have you reciting my statutes, standing there mouthing my covenant, since you detest my discipline, and thrust my words behind you?’ And ‘you observed the splinter in your brother's eye, and did not notice the plank in your own?’
In this simple passage Benedict reminds us that we teach by both word and deed, and that one cannot succeed without the other. Benedict is also wise to point out that one form of teaching may be better for one child than another. Some children will learn more easily by being told: others need actions. Both will be watching to see if our words and actions agree, and the sobering truth is that in the end they will do as we do, not as we say.
It is vital that our teaching is backed up by our actions to avoid hypocrisy and give weight to the truth. But the need for words and actions to agree has a deeper reason, because no truth is ever valid unless it is acted on. Practising what we preach goes right to the heart of what we believe as Christians because as we practise the truth we ‘enflesh’ the truth and make it visible. Trying to live the truth means our faith is never just a matter of agreeing to the right dogma or giving intellectual assent to a system of belief. Instead, faith itself becomes a way of life, a living and dynamic force woven into our very existence.
This kind of ‘enacted faith’ also has a prophetic element. The Old Testament prophets not only spoke God's word, but they often preached directly from circumstances around them, and took certain dramatic and prophetic actions. So in the home every opportunity should be taken to join moral teaching with real-life situations. The rough and tumble of family life should provide the classroom for the soul's growth. So it isn't good enough simply to declare what is right and wrong and expect obedience, but time should be taken to explain the ramifications of wrongdoing, and why a certain thing is wrong: e.g. because it hurts people. In this way the truths of faith and morals are constantly being woven into the patterns and actions of everyday life.
January 12
May 13
September 12
CHAPTER II
WHAT KIND OF MAN THE
ABBOT SHOULD BE (C)
The Abbot must not show personal preferences in his monastery. He must not be more loving to one than to another, unless he had found him to be more advanced in goods works or in obedience. A free-born man must not be put before one entering the monastery from slavery, unless some other reasonable cause exists. But if it seems to the Abbot that there is good reason for it, let him do so, and let him do the same about the rank of anyone. Otherwise let them keep their normal order. For whether we are slaves or freemen, we are all one in Christ, and serve on equal terms in the army of one Lord; ‘for God has no favourites’. In regard to rank we find distinction in his eyes only if we are found humble and better than others in good works. Therefore the Abbot should show himself equally loving to all, and maintain discipline impartially according to the merits of each.
In his life of St Benedict, Gregory the Great tells us how the community at Monte Cassino was composed of men from many different races and social strata. In managing them Benedict gives the basic rule that there is to be no favouritism in the abbot's dealings with his monks. God has no favourites (Rom. 2.11) and neither must the loving abba. Each person has equal favour in God's eyes; whether slave or free we are all one in Christ (Gal. 3.28). But this equality does not mean everyone is identical.
The abbot must overlook social rank. A monk entering from slavery or from the nobility is to be treated the same. This sounds very modern and enlightened, but we shouldn't think