My research into the journey of Father Gregory Borgstedt left me with a feeling of spiritual proximity and fellowship with the man, despite his departure from this community having happened nearly seventy years ago and a decade before my birth. I walked around the campus this unseasonably warm Friday afternoon, thinking about the physical evolution of these grounds, as well as our theological evolution. We still struggle to be able to pray as we ought. We still seek to reconcile the success–oriented aims of the school with the heaven-oriented aims of the monastery. And as his encounter with this community saw it move from dependency on Fort Augustus to independence, we see it still working on that independence, now in collaboration with St. Louis. Although we enjoy a marvelous new science building, I still teach in the chemistry building constructed in his day. My afternoon walk started there, and I walked along the western edge of the campus, bordered by that same Narragansett Bay. And I experienced an unexpected gratitude, simply for a shared journey and a fellowship in the search. Plus ca change, they say in French...
Pax,
B. Billings
January 11, 2020
I am prompted to write this note by two events over the past week – Abbot Christopher Jamison’s homily on “Grievance and Gratitude,” and Father Michael’s autobiographical presentation to the School on his religious journey (you can find them here). Father Michael referred to conversatio morum, one of the three Benedictine vows, as pointing to a life of conversion. That got me to thinking, so I offer here what may be a somewhat unorthodox or overly creative interpretation of that vow, but let’s run with it for the moment.
If a monastery were just about obedience and stability, this would be not unlike a prison. School or work may feel like that, too. But if included in such a regimen is a commitment to being changed, a ray of light opens, and obedience and stability may set the parameters of conversion. They shape the walls of “the workshop of the Lord,” as Benedict calls the monastic enclosure. Conversatio morum, that puzzling third vow, then, is a dedication to allowing this workshop to become one of transformation, in which, “God must increase, and I must decrease” (to draw on the passage informing Abbot Christopher’s homily). Conversatio becomes a devotion to grace, that it may be allowed to have its full effect. It implies a commitment to listening, that cardinal rule of Benedict. Why is attentive and patient listening so difficult? That may have to do with authentic listening being a truly frightful thing – for it entails an openness to the possibility of real change, from the known to the unknown.
Conversion is about change - a fearful thing. But a life where fear is transformed into hope is a life in which conversion is embraced as an opportunity to find something good and desirable. This is how conversatio transforms obedience and stability. And if disobedience and instability is the way of the prodigal son, obedience and stability, by themselves, is the way of the elder son - but such a life is rife with tedium, resentment, and grievance. The elder son is as much in need of grace as the prodigal. The effect of that grace: my will is replaced with His; obedience and stability become a transformative serving that is not a servitude. Obedience, perseverance, and renunciation are thus transformed into faith, hope, and love.
Pax,
B. Billings
January 18, 2020
Here we are, in mid-winter. My editorial note may sound uninspired. I was reflecting on this very fact, this lack of “je ne sais quoi.” – we march forward, really feeling to be in the midst of a marathon. Of course, I have never run a marathon, so what would I know what that really feels like? But I have run something resembling a sprint, and this does not feel like that. Miles to go before I sleep… Or, rather, miles to go, so let me sleep. Work in a high school typically does not lack for the presence of high-energy. But even a number of our young flock has the flu, or other winter-type ailments. It used to be that boarding students were required to write their weekly letter home. Well, let this week’s editorial be my little note from Camp Granada (yes, the younger generation may have no idea what that means – so Google it.) I look forward to next weekend’s celebration of the Presentation, with its emphasis on Light and Joy. Light at the end of the January tunnel!
Pax,
B. Billings
January 25, 2020