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EPISCOPAL NEW YORKER |
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Top, Little Portion Friary
in Mt. Sinai, NY, offers moonlight labyrinth walks. Photos by TACHUS MEDIA |
What
Monasticism Is Not: Three Great Misconceptions |
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By the Rev. Dr. Clair
McPherson |
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Three powerful misconceptions need to be cleared away from the start. First, many people seem to think of monasticism in a Romantic way, as though it were the religious equivalent of the French Foreign Legion, an escape route from a troubled or complicated world. Second, others seem to picture it as a haven for eccentrics — a rather silly lifestyle for marginal types. A third misconception is that a surprising number of people seem to think monasticism is basically something belonging only to Roman Catholicism. None of the above corresponds with reality. Let’s examine these one by one. The first, and probably the most dangerous one, is that monasticism offers an escape, that it is a way of leaving the world and its problems behind. Certainly some have found their way to monasteries through life traumas, but that is because they offer refuge for the wounded person, not because their way of life is in itself an escape! For monasticism is about honesty, and will challenge, encourage or shock you into confronting your problems. As Brother Clark Berge puts it, “Try to hide from a problem and it will find you out, whether it be personality, sexuality, or whatever.” The second most common misconception is that monasticism is inherently strange — that it is at best an eccentric lifestyle, at worst something unhealthy and unwelcome. Here Sister Catherine Grace, CHS makes a very strong claim: that monasticism is, on the contrary, “a challenge to a deeper health at the psychological, physical, spiritual and emotional levels, all of the above.” There is room, psychologically speaking, for the eccentric — thus practically all members of community speak of the gratitude they feel for acceptance and belonging — but that psychological space is made possible by the very fact of healthy order. The third misconception is simply
a point of misinformation, but so widespread that it creates all kinds
of confusion. This is the strange idea that monasticism is somehow something
exclusively Roman Catholic. Monasticism is, on the contrary, pretty
well diffused throughout Christianity. There is a Presbyterian monastic
order, for example; there are any number of ecumenical orders, Taize
being the most famous example; and there are, most assuredly, many Orthodox
orders. And we have a number of Orders. There are Anglican Franciscans
and Benedictines, and various modern Orders with their own character,
sense of mission and structure. |
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Portrait
of a Lifestyle Now, as Haller says, the diversity of orders within the Anglican communion is enormous. “We are at least as diverse as Roman Catholicism — maybe, proportionately, more so. We have every flavor: from Solitaries to Third Order Franciscans, and from highly-structured, supervised and enclosed communities to the most Apostolic, out-there individualists.” What, if anything, do all these flavors have in common? One common denominator is the Rule of Life. Originally, this meant not “people who follow a religion,” but those bound by Rule. The diversity derives in every case from the countless differences between these rules, but the reality of a regula is something they all share. Now for many, the word “rule” has somewhat negative connotations. Why should anyone willingly embrace a set of lifestyle rules? Because, says Sister Catherine Grace, rules are, perhaps paradoxically, freeing. “A monastic rule provides the container in which to communicate the Word and discover identity and meaning.” To paraphrase the poet Robert Frost, life without rule is like playing tennis without the net — it seems shapeless, pointless. What does a monastic rule of life look like? Besides some version of the ancient Benedictine vows of stability, obedience and conversion of life, most local rules simply involve frequency of prayer, meditation and sacraments; intentional service; regulated acts of self-denial and self-examination. In recent decades, many Christians who do not feel the call to monastic vocation have nonetheless discerned this and have developed personal rules of life. But there is also the option of the secular Christian (anyone not living in community and under rule) becoming an Associate of any of the classic or modern orders. This option enables anyone to share in some of the blessings of life under rule by accepting a modified version suitable for life in the world and of community. The Order becomes an extended community for the individual. And there is also the option within Franciscanism of the Third Order or Tertiary. St. Francis himself, tradition holds, envisioned a Third Order of secular Christians who could share, as the Rev. Masud Ibn Syedullah expresses it, the “values of St. Francis.” Syedullah, Priest in Charge at Atonement, Bronx, and member of the Episcopal-Muslim Relations Committee, says he has found the Third Order to be an ideal way of bringing the rich strands of his life together: “It provides simplicity and connectedness within the context of the values I found attractive in St. Francis: peace and justice issues.” Monastic life really has begun to look less like a radically different lifestyle and more like a focused version of the ordinary Christian life of prayer, communion, self-control and service. An Historical Sketch But Christian monasticism did develop in a unique way. From the start, there seem to have been Christian solitaries, and in a sense the earliest Christians all lived “under rule.” For three centuries, Christians were very much outsiders in the world of the Roman Empire — at best despised, at worst actively persecuted. Just by existing, they were a kind of counter-cultural community. But in the course of the fourth century, things changed completely. First, an Emperor became a Christian (of sorts), and he made Christianity legal, which it had never been. By century’s end, Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, replacing the age-old, Greek-tinged religion of Rome. The blessing, as usual in theological history, was mixed. It was obviously far better to share a bench with the Emperor than to be part of his entertainment in the Coliseum. But the fervent edge that had kept the faith alive for 300 years was replaced by a flabby complacency and a spiritual ennui. Many coveted that old fervent edge. And so, throughout the fourth century, more opted for the monastic life, either as solitaries or, increasingly, as alternative communities living under a rough common rule of life. In the Middle Ages, religious communities became so identified with the established Church that monasticism seemed to have lost its prophetic character and became at best a school for mystics. At worst, monasticism was identified with the church and all its famous (and probably exaggerated) medieval corruptions. As a result, when the Reformers attempted to return the Church to its first and second century paradigms, monasticism was ironically swept aside as a medieval innovation, when in fact it was as old as the Apostolic era. This has obviously been redressed by now. The Anglican Communion saw the revival during the 19th century. Today, monasticism flourishes within our church with a renewed vigor, as we rediscover the spiritual, theological, liturgical and prophetic values of the ancient undivided Christian state and recognize our kinship with it. Perhaps in the realm of spirituality, monasticism makes its enormous contribution now. Presiding Bishop Frank Griswold has defined spirituality as “intentional discipleship”; monasticism, then, would be simply a most conspicuous way of working out that definition. |
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