Portsmouth Abbey

2020 Wisdom

wisdom
- The Current features a monthly series exploring some of the spiritual wisdom of the Benedictine tradition. We include as the Advent season comes to its end, some insights into the Christian message, as reflected through some thinkers from the Benedictine tradition.
- January 2020
  
  cardinal basil hume
  
  This month’s exploration of Benedictine wisdom presents selections from Searching for God, by Cardinal Basil Hume (1923-1999), who was called to serve as Archbishop of Westminster and cardinal from his position as abbot of Ampleforth Abbey. The Cardinal Hume Centre posts: “In 1998, Cardinal Hume asked John Paul II for permission to retire, so that he could go back to his monastery at Ampleforth and spend some time fly fishing and watching Newcastle United Football Club. The request was refused. He was diagnosed with inoperable stomach cancer in April 1999. On June 2 of that same year, Queen Elizabeth awarded him the Order of Merit. He died just over two weeks later on June 17th in London, aged 76. His funeral was live on national television and he was buried in Westminster Cathedral. Pope John Paul II said he was a “shepherd of great spiritual and moral character.”
  
  (At right is the portrait image from the Tablet's obituary issue on Basil Hume.)
  
  selections from searching for god
  
  Cardinal Basil Hume, OSB
  
  conversatio morum
  
  Monasticism is a “way of life,” and the word “way” recalls the pilgrim character of this life and of our monastic history. The scene changes, at one period slowly, at another rapidly. We ourselves change and must change. Sometimes our pace will be quick and sure, sometimes it is slow and the going heavy. … our progress along the road can be delayed by our turning aside and following some byway. We live in restless age, a restless society. But what period in history has not been much the same? Perhaps we are more aware of this phenomenon in our day, but it is important, if we feel restless, for whatever reason, to realize that this is an obstacle between ourselves and our service to God. To learn the art of being rightly and properly critical of what we are and what we do, while at the same time remaining wholeheartedly dedicated to the work in hand and to one another; to preserve an inner peace while being at the same time aware of the voice of the Spirit speaking to us individually and collectively so as to lead us along ways unknown and unforeseen; to be aware of the call of the Spirit in the needs of our times; to be aware of the call of the Church and at the same time to be at peace, at rest: this is possible only if our pursuit is single-minded and constant. (Searching, p.86)
  
  Hume meeting with the Dalai Lama
  
  The Cardinal had a well-established friendship with Lady Diana.
  
  humility
  
  Each day should see me more humble; each day more willing to accept what comes my way. Thus I become more closely united to the Lord – grow, as I grow in grace, in the love of his Father...
  
  No one can accuse St. Paul of being a pessimist; for him life was cheerful, rewarding, fulfilling. His doctrine is one of hope. But the passage of his upon which I would like to meditate is in his Second Epistle to the Corinthians: “More than ever I delight to boast of the weaknesses that humiliate me so that the strength of Christ may enshrine itself in me. I am content with these humiliations of mine, the insults, the hardships, the persecutions, the times of difficulty which I undergo for Christ. When I am weakest then I am strongest of all.”
  Those of us who have experience of pastoral work come to realize that there are daily difficulties which cumulatively can amount to an extremely heavy burden. One can say further that in every human life there is a sadness or difficulty from which the person would gladly be free. There are, too, considerable crises of one kind or another. We call these “crosses” and know that the Scriptures that carrying the Cross is a condition of discipleship. We know, too, that “the grain of wheat must die…” We are familiar with the concept that a burden, carried as a cross, can become light. Many, however, do not derive this consolation – they become overwhelmed.
  
  What is the role of the Cross in the spiritual and monastic life? Constantly God allows us to be buffeted by events and persons. There are frustrations: “If only it had worked out as I had planned!”; failures: “I made a fool of myself”; feelings of inadequacy: “Others do things so much better”; misunderstandings: “I did not mean to upset him”; being unappreciated: “No one knows the trouble I went to.” … We learn to cope with problems and to become less vulnerable.
  
  However, we should go further, and in suffering see flashes of enlightenment and growth in our life hidden with Christ. We should recognize “golden moments”: “when I am weakest, then I am strongest”: We can come to find content, even delight, in humiliations, insults, hardships, persecutions, and difficulties, undergone for Christ. We become content when we realize that God is allowing us to experience – with and in his son – something of what Christ endured in Gethsemane or even in his dereliction on the Cross.
  (Searching, pp.144-146)
  
  The Cardinal's funeral Mass, on June 25, 1999, was transmitted live on BBC TV. It remains available for viewing on youtube.
  
  prayer
  
  It is important to adapt the attitude of waiting, of just being present at prayer even though the effort seems to us unrewarding. Success or failure – that is the attitude of Samuel: “Speak, Lord, for your servant hears” (1 Sam 3:10). This attitude may be as far as we get. And it my opinion it is a mistake to expect in prayer a response from God. Often God’s response is outside prayer. And often we do not link up an outside response with the effort we put into prayer. God speaks to us through events, through other persons, in opportunities presented to us day by day. But he speaks to us essentially and above all in the depths of our being, inspiring in us a great wanting for God. (Searching 124)
  
  To pray is to try to make ourselves aware of God and in that awareness respond to him. It is an attempt to raise our minds and hearts to God. Abbot Herbert used to tell us that to try to pray was in fact to pray.
  
  Prayer is an act of faith, hope, and charity. It is always an act of faith: “Lord, we would have our eyes opened.” Our Lord, let me remind you, points to us the question he put to the two blind men on the way to Jericho: “What would you help me do for you?” “Lord, we would have our eyes opened.” He puts to us the question he put to that other blind man whom, as Saint John records, he cured: “Do you believe?” “I do believe, Lord,” the man answered, and falling down adored him.
  
  Prayer is an act of charity, an act of love. “You know all things, Lord, you know that I love you.” It is an act of hope, because he puts to us the same question he put to certain of the apostles (in the sixth chapter of Saint John): “Would you, too, go away?” “Lord, to whom would we go? Yours are the words of eternal life. We have learned to believe and are assured that you are the Christ, the son of God.” We, also, are tempted to go away, turn away, and then we remember that there is none other to whom we can go to find eternal life. Prayer is the cry of a humble man: one who recognizes his inadequacy before God. “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.” “It is not those who are in health who have need of the physician, but those who are sick.” To pray is to acknowledge our dependence on God and so we wonder why we should ask, when God is already aware of our needs. Because he told us himself that we should ask: “Ask and you will receive.” Because our asking is part of the order of things that brings about the working of God’s providence. And if my request is not answered, we know it is because his wishes for us will always be greater than our ambitions. (Searching, pp.126-7)
  
  related links
  
  Searching for God, by Basil Hume
  
  "The Cardinal Hume Centre enables people to gain the skills they need to overcome poverty and homelessness. We help homeless young people, families in need and individuals living in poverty to realise their full potential."
  
  Obituary by Paul Vallely
  
  "In Cardinal Hume: A Spiritual Companion, we are given the opportunity to journey alongside this man of God. The book offers reflections and meditations for the seasons of the Christian year, beginning with Lent and Easter, then moving through Pentecost and on to Advent and Christmas."
  
  Hume-related books on Amazon.com
- February 2020
  
  The Current features a monthly series exploring some of the spiritual wisdom of the Benedictine tradition. This month, we look at the beginning of Lent in light of Benedict's Rule.
  
  lenten preparations
  
  This week, as Ash Wednesday approaches, we include under the title of “Benedictine Wisdom,” a brief consideration of how the monks of this community prepare for Lent. Their practices here, as everywhere, are meant to reflect the directives of the Rule of Saint Benedict. Chapters 49 and 33 of the Rule give directly pertinent advice here, though the entire Rule, as Benedict says, reveals a “Lenten” character.
  
  Saint Benedict famously says that, “The life of a monk ought to be a continuous Lent” (Chapter 49). And why: to draw closer to God; to make His will his singular devotion; to realize that the kingdom of this world must be superseded by the kingdom of heaven. The monk enters into monastic life itself through such vocation and devotion. Yet Benedict realizes that perseverance in the rigors of a life committed to the rejection for the worldly is not an easy task and “few have the strength for this.” Therefore the season of Lent provides an opportunity for re-dedication, a re-discovery of what should be a continuous awareness in the monk. So how do monks actually go about the pursuit of this hope? How does the monastic community incorporate into its life, already dedicated to the divine office and to monastic simplicity, a focused preparation for this Lenten renewal?
  
  Benedict directs that, “During these days, therefore, we will add to the usual measure of our service something by way of private prayer and abstinence from food or drink.” This monastic community takes this directive very seriously. Each monk is obligated to present to the superior a list of his anticipated Lenten observances. The Rule sets forth that, “Everyone should, however, make known to the abbot what he intends to do, since it ought to be done with his prayer and approval. Whatever is undertaken without the permission of the spiritual father will be reckoned as presumption and vainglory, not deserving a reward. Therefore, everything must be done with the abbot’s approval.” For the Lenten season, monks are to take on some practice of prayer, fasting, and spiritual reading. The list presented to the superior is to reflect the spiritual reading he intends to do, the additional prayer practice he will take on, and the fasting he will practice. The monk may also note additional devotions or good works he plans to incorporate. Here too, the superior is directed by the Rule to assess these practices. The monk might list a spiritual classic to read; he may schedule in some time specifically for meditation; he may restrict his consumption of food in some way. All of these practices, Benedict indicates, are about spiritual conversion and an authentic life of the spirit, in a dedication to “prayer with tears, to reading, to compunction of heart and self-denial.”
  
  There is more, however. The season also provides an opportunity for a kind of self-accounting. And this quite literally: an annual accounting of all of one’s personal possessions. Benedict is rigorous in his demand that monks rid themselves of the attachment to worldly possessions, and directs the superior to enforce this actively. Chapter 33 lays down the law concerning private possessions: “Above all, this evil practice must be uprooted and removed from the monastery. We mean that without an order from the abbot, no one may presume to give, receive or retain anything as his own, nothing at all–not a book, writing tablets or stylus–in short, not a single item, especially since monks may not have the free disposal even of their own bodies and wills. For their needs, they are to look to the father of the monastery, and are not allowed anything which the abbot has not given or permitted.” As Lent approaches, each monk must take stock of what he considers to be his own. Each monk presents to the superior his list of possessions. These may include such items as a piece of furniture or a painting, posters or other items in their rooms or even made available in common areas. These might include books, religious statues, clothing, music recordings: anything to which he might attach the adjective “mine.” The listing becomes a kind of economic “examination of conscience,” directed to the possession of things. And the superior thus acts as a spiritual director, helping the monk to assess the significance of these possessions to their monastic simplicity. These practices are all set in the context of a liturgical season of penance, highlighted in Mass readings, in antiphons of the divine office, in simpler music, in a spirit of renewal. This, as Columba Marmion indicates, to draw into relief the path of the monk – the “monos” of singular and simple unity with God, that nothing produce a hindrance along that path, that one’s entire life is so directed by the search for God.
  
  So, is all of this solely for the monk? It is surely for all, as the U.S Bishops tell the whole faithful: “During Lent, we are asked to devote ourselves to seeking the Lord in prayer and reading Scripture, to service by giving alms, and to practice self-control through fasting. Many know of the tradition of abstaining from meat on Fridays during Lent, but we are also called to practice self-discipline and fast in other ways throughout the season. …In addition, the giving of alms is one way to share God's gifts – not only through the distribution of money, but through the sharing of our time and talents” (See their website). So, as the Lenten season arrives, with Ash Wednesday this February 26, we may each consider our own personal lists: how we might commit time to reading, to prayer, to service; how we might set aside some things, or consider how we are putting our own possessions to use. Then we might see more clearly what we truly need to take with us on our path toward Easter. We need not worry about being Lenten experts to heed Benedict’s advice: “Are you hastening toward your heavenly home? Then with Christ’s help, keep this little rule that we have written for beginners.”
- Lent 2020 (February/March)
  
  The Current features a monthly series exploring some of the spiritual wisdom of the Benedictine tradition. This month, we look at the beginning of Lent in light of Benedict's Rule.
  
  thomas merton
  
  Let me use all things for one sole reason: to find my joy in giving You glory. Therefore, keep me, above all things, from sin. Keep me from the death of deadly sin which puts hell in my soul. Keep me from the murder of lust that blinds and poisons my heart. Keep me from the sins that eat a man's flesh with irresistible fire until he is devoured. Keep me from loving money in which is hatred, from avarice [greed] and ambition that suffocate my life. Keep me from the dead works of vanity and the thankless labor in which artists destroy themselves for pride and money and reputation, and saints are smothered under the avalanche of their own importunate zeal. Staunch in me the rank wound of covetousness and the hungers that exhaust my nature with their bleeding. Stamp out the serpent envy that stings love with poison and kills all joy. Untie my hands and deliver my heart from sloth. Set me free from the laziness that goes about disguised as activity when activity is not required of me, and from the cowardice that does what is not demanded, in order to escape sacrifice. But give me the strength that waits upon You in silence and peace. Give me humility in which alone is rest, and deliver me from pride which is the heaviest of burdens. And possess my whole heart and soul with the simplicity of love. Occupy my whole life with the one thought and the one desire of love, that I may love not for the sake of merit, not for the sake of perfection, not for the sake of virtue, not for the sake of sanctity, but for You alone.
  
  From "Thoughts in Solitude" (1958)
  My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.
  I do not see the road ahead of me.
  I cannot know for certain where it will end.
  Nor do I really know myself,
  and the fact that I think I am following your will
  does not mean that I am actually doing so.
  But I believe that the desire to please you
  does in fact please you.
  And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
  I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
  And I know that, if I do this,
  You will lead me by the right road,
  though I may know nothing about it.
  Therefore I will trust you always
  though I may seem to be lost
  and in the shadow of death.
  I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
  and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
  
  henri nouwen
  
  this lenten season
  
  (composed while visiting the Trappist monastery
  in the Genesee Valley of upstate New York)
  
  How often have I lived through these weeks without paying much attention to penance, fasting, and prayer? How often have I missed the spiritual fruits of the season without even being aware of it? But how can I ever really celebrate Easter without observing Lent? How can I rejoice fully in your Resurrection when I have avoided participating in your death? Yes, Lord, I have to die—with you, through you, and in you—and thus become ready to recognize you when you appear to me in your Resurrection. There is so much in me that needs to die: false attachments, greed and anger, impatience and stinginess…. I see clearly now how little I have died with you, really gone your way and been faithful to it. O Lord, make this Lenten season different from the other ones. Let me find you again. Amen. (from A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee, Orbis)
  
  saint bernard of clairvaux
  
  my merit is in his mercy
  
  Where can the weak find a place of firm security and peace, except in the wounds of the Savior? Indeed, the more secure is my place there the more he can do to help me. The world rages, the flesh is heavy, and the devil lays his snares, but I do not fall, for my feet are planted on firm rock. I may have sinned gravely. My conscience would be distressed, but it would not be in turmoil, for I would recall the wounds of the Lord: He was wounded for our iniquities. What sin is there so deadly that it cannot be pardoned by the death of Christ? And so if I bear in mind this strong, effective remedy, I can never again be terrified by the malignancy of sin. Surely the man who said, “My sin is too great to merit pardon,” was wrong. He was speaking as though he were not a member of Christ and had no share in his merits, so that he could claim them as his own, as a member of the body can claim what belongs to the head. As for me, what can I appropriate that I lack from the heart of the Lord who abounds in mercy? They pierced his hands and feet and opened his side with a spear. Through the openings of these wounds I may drink honey from the rock and oil from the hardest stone: that is, I may taste and see that the Lord is sweet.
  
  He was thinking thoughts of peace, and I did not know it, for who knows the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? But the piercing nail has become a key to unlock the door, that I may see the good will of the Lord. And what can I see as I look through the hole? Both the nail and the wound cry out that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. The sword pierced his soul and came close to his heart, so that he might be able to feel compassion for me in my weaknesses. Through these sacred wounds we can see the secret of his heart, the great mystery of love, the sincerity of his mercy with which he visited us from on high. Where have your love, your mercy, your compassion shone out more luminously that in your wounds, sweet, gentle Lord of mercy? More mercy than this no one has than that he lay down his life for those who are doomed to death. My merit comes from his mercy; for I do not lack merit so long as he does not lack pity. And if the Lord’s mercies are many, then I am rich in merits. For even if I am aware of many sins, what does it matter? Where sin abounded grace has overflowed. And if the Lord’s mercies are from all ages forever, I too will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever. Will I not sing of my own righteousness? No, Lord, I shall be mindful only of your justice. Yet that too is my own; for God has made you my righteousness. (From his homily on the Song of Songs; Sermo 61, 3-5: Opera omnia, 2, 150-1)
  
  authentic fasting
  
  “Let the eyes fast from curiosity. Let the ears fast in not heeding vain words or anything unnecessary for the soul’s salvation. Let the tongue fast from defamation and gossip, from vain and useless words. Let the hand fast from idleness and unnecessary busyness. Let the soul fast even more from all vices and sins, and from imposing its will and judgments. For without such fasting, all other fasting is rejected by God.” (from a Lenten homily)
  
  blessed columba marmion
  
  on suffering
  
  It is above all on days of weariness, sickness, impatience, temptation, spiritual dryness, and trials, during hours of sometimes terrible anguish which press upon a soul, that holy abandonment is pleasing to God… More than once we have considered this truth, namely, that there is a sum total of sufferings, of humiliations and sorrows, which God has foreseen for the members of Christ's mystical body in order to “fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ.” We cannot reach perfect union with Christ Jesus unless we accept that portion of the chalice which our Lord wills to give us to drink with Him and after Him. (from Christ, the Ideal of the Monk, Part II, chapter 16, section 4).
  
  saint gregory the great
  
  on lent
  
  Take notice of the fact that, as soon as the devil left Jesus, Angels came and ministered unto Him. Thereby we are given to understand that there are two natures in Jesus Christ. By the temptation of the devil we know that He was true Man, whilst the coming of the Angels and their ministering to Him, teach us that He is also true God. Let us, then, recognize our own nature in our Savior, for the devil would not have dared to tempt Him, had he not perceived in Him our humanity. At the same time we bring Him our adorations, for the Angels would not have considered it their duty to minister unto Him, were He not as God exalted over them and all creatures. This Gospel, calling to our mind the forty days and forty nights of fasting spent by our Lord in the desert, entirely agrees with the fast we observe during this holy season. But why was this number of forty days fasting sanctified? We read in the history of the Israelites that Moses prepared himself for the reception of the Law by fasting forty days; that Elias observed the same fast; that Jesus, before beginning His public life, abstained from food for forty days and forty nights; and lastly, that we also, as far as lies in us, observe this abstinence and fasting during the time of Lent. Though several motives may be set forth to explain this law of the Church, we can say in all truth that, by observing this commandment, we offer to God the tenth part of the year granted to us for satisfying our corporeal necessities. After living solely for ourselves during the course of the year, we now in Lent live for God, offering Him by our abstinence a part of that year. (from a Lenten homily)