The Monastic Habit

Many people recognize a worker by what clothes they wear. For example, a railroad engineer wears a distinct uniform, and nearly everyone knows them by the uniform they wear. The same can be said for monks and nuns; we wear a very distinct kind of clothing that identifies us as vowed religious. While not everyone knows what our clothes represent, many people recognize the monastic habit and are curious about the person wearing it.

The habit is intended to be a sign of simplicity. Many monks and nuns do not own secular clothing, and thus rely on the habit as their daily wear. For the dispersed monk or nun, the habit is optional, however many choose to wear it over secular clothing. For many it provides the same simplicity as the cloistered monk or nun. Those who wear the habit do not need to spend time picking out their clothes for the day, and likewise do not need to impress anyone with the holy clothing that they wear.

The habit is NOT intended to be worn as an item of social status or to attract attention to one’s self. Wearing a habit for these reasons demeans the nature of the cloth, and only serves to boost the ego of the person wearing it.

The habit IS meant to bring about humility in the person wearing it; the simplicity and unflattering nature of a monastic habit ought to bring a person down to earth and enforce the idea that the person wearing it belongs to their Creator and not to a social club or particular status of ego.

In closing, I would like to challenge any of you who wear the monastic habit to examine your intentions when it comes to wearing it. Do you seek the praise and curiosity of those around you, or do you seek to serve as a witness to the love of, and total belonging to your Creator?

Loneliness Vs. Holy Solitude

The life of a hermit, or any monk or nun for that matter, can be lonely. The call to solitude and silence can be ominous, especially for the novice monastic. At this point in my monastic career, I have become accustomed to solitude and silence, however that does not mean that I do not still get lonely from time to time.

I will admit that it has taken me many, many years to convert my loneliness into holy solitude. This is done through prayer and meditation, as well as talking candidly with my spiritual director about my monastic way of life and the ups and downs it brings into my life.

The Rule of St. Benedict teaches that a monk or nun is always be praying, whether it is during liturgical prayer (such as the Divine Office), manual labor, Lectio Divina (also called Sacred Reading) or while doing a craft such as painting or knitting, prayer is to always be at the heart of what a person is doing.

This teaching has helped me greatly concerning loneliness vs. holy solitude. The more often I pray, the less lonely I am. I believe this is because in prayer, we are joined to the heart of God, which connects us to everything in Creation.

The community to which I belong in dispersed, meaning we live apart from one another. To add to that, there are great distances between us, with some of us in the United States, some in Canada, one in the Dominican Republic and one in Egypt. We don't exactly get to have face-to-face fellowship, so we chat online or over the phone instead.

Even though these channels of communication are always open to us, we don't always use them. I believe this is because of our vocation as hermits is to seek out solitude and silence, rather than chatting just to fill the empty spaces in our day. This is as it should be for hermits.

In closing, I would invite each of you to take 10 minutes out of your day to be completely alone and completely silent. This includes silence from your smartphones and other electronic devices. With practice, you may find that your outlook on life is more tempered and calm.

Compassionate Listening

The following is a talk given by Fr. Bjorn at the Lewis-Clark Center for Spiritual Living.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be always a reflection of the loving spirit of God, our stronghold and our teacher.

The following is a poem by Christina Rossetti that my teacher read to me when I was in 2nd grade. I have carried it with me since then, and often reflect on its meaning. I invite you to take a few moments and reflect on what it might mean to you, and what it might teach us about listening for the still, small voice God in our lives.

 

Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you,

but when the leaves hang trembling,

the wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind? Neither you, nor I.

But when the trees bow down their heads,

the wind is passing by.

It is an honor to be here among you; I offer my sincerest thanks on behalf of both myself and the monastic community to which I belong for the welcoming environment and the sincere connections that we have found here.

Within this sacred space, we come together to celebrate the movement of God in our lives and the lives of those around us. It has been a great source of joy and learning to me, to experience the genuine gratitude and fellowship shared in this space; my deepest self finds rest, refreshment and new ways of thinking each time I join with you in celebration of the great gifts we share.

I have observed that many, if not most of us have come to find some level of comfort with silence, and have experienced a place of stillness in which we are able to hear the voice of the Spirit that instructs us in the ways of love, self-discovery and profound internal growth.

The practice of mindful listening that is cultivated by our encounters with silence is near and dear to my heart. In order to nurture the kind of understanding that nourishes my spirit and enables me to carry out the tasks I am called to do, I must begin from a place of stillness and strive to maintain an attitude of listening as I attend to the work set before me.

In the same way, each of us are called to seek out that place of stillness where the Spirit moves freely and awakens us to our own ability to be a conduit of

God’s loving presence in the lives of those around us.

This does not mean that we should seek to convert others to our own ways and ideas about how we encounter God in our lives; such actions and attitudes are nothing more than self-service, which naturally leads to the exclusion of some who bear the greatest need for a profound encounter with the love that we know as God in their lives.

The kind of service I am talking about springs up like water drawn from a deep well; a well that, within each of us, is filled with a kind of refreshment that never runs dry.

From this pure and sacred place, we can find the tools needed for the work set before us, which is the work of compassionate listening. The most sacred attribute of this well is that the more we draw from it with the intention of freely sharing the gifts it bestows upon us, the more refreshing and plentiful it becomes, and is more readily shared with us, providing sanctuary and solace to our deepest and innermost selves.

There have been times in each of our lives where, in the face of great challenges, uncertainty or amidst the burdens of suffering that it may seem as if no one can hear the words, whether spoken or silent, that convey our deepest desires, which are to love and be loved, and to know and be known.

It may seem as if some of the people around us are simply biding their time in wait for their turn to speak; hearing our words but never our voice. This kind of insincerity can be devastating to a soul in suffering.

We must, therefore, be diligent in cultivating an attitude of listening that allows us to hear the true voices of those around us, which in turn allows for a profound communication that comes from a place of unadulterated compassion.

We must be mindful to the way we listen if we are to cultivate listening that is more than simply waiting for our turn to speak. Put your wandering thoughts and distractions aside and be present with the person who is in need of your ears.

These kinds of connections nourish us; they provide us with glimpses of affirmation on our paths toward a Godly state of being. This kind of profound nourishment can be easily seen if we take the time to look for it, both on an individual, as well as a collective level.

It is this form of connected awareness that can help guide us through the fog that clouds our ability to move through the suffering in our lives. In the same way, it can instruct us in the ways of guiding those around us who are overwhelmed by the suffering they experience.

I have a deep conviction that many, if not all of the great teachers throughout history, when speaking of loving one another as God loves us, had this kind of honest connection to our innermost state of being in mind.

Over the coming days, I encourage you to recall the meaning that the words spoken here today convey to your heart, and observe the ways in which you respond to the truth that you have found in your practice of listening.

May the abundant peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, that you may be a witness to the awesome love of God in the world.

The Modern Hermit

In ancient times, men and women would move out into the wilderness, living in caves or small structures that they had built for themselves and observing a life of prayer, silence, fasting and sacred reading. These people were known as the Desert Fathers and Mothers, and they were the first recorded Christian monastics.

Their hermitages or clusters (also known as a Laura) were often visited by pilgrims seeking wisdom and those seeking to take on the eremitic life for themselves. Newcomers would be tested to see if they could handle the often harsh conditions of this way of monastic life, and many would fail. For more about the Desert Fathers and Mothers, see "Desert Fathers and Mothers".

Today hermits live a very different lifestyle than their earlier predecessors. Many hermits nowadays live in cities, with their homes serving as their hermitages. Some work secular jobs while others are retired or disabled, but all of them share in a holy solitude as much as is possible given their circumstances.

Very few modern hermits receive visitors. Some belong to religious orders that are dispersed (meaning they live apart from one another), and some are simply solitaries who have professed monastic vows. Whatever the case may be, they all share in the historic life of prayer, meditation, solitude, study, and work.

I myself belong to a small dispersed community. I have the luxury of living out in the country in a rented house that serves as my monastic enclosure, which I do not leave unless it is absolutely necessary (for reasons such as procuring groceries or doctors appointments). I am disabled, so I am free to devote all of my time to the monastic life. The gentle rhythm of pray, eat, and work dictates my days, and there is a high level of environmental silence with the exception of the noise from the farm on which my house sits.

In some ways, the life of the modern hermit is much, much easier than that of the desert fathers and mothers, and in some ways it is more difficult. Holy solitude and environmental silence are hard to find if you live in a city, and for many modern hermits, secular work is necessary for their sustenance.

Whatever the life circumstances of the modern hermit may be, the driving force of their vocation is the same: a deep and consuming desire to serve their Creator.

Question for reflection: How might I better serve my Creator?

How to Love Your Neighbor

In yesterday's fellowship hour, we were reminded by novice Br. Elisha Therese that we are called to love. This means loving our Creator, ourselves and our neighbors, and praying for those who would harm us.

When I consider what would drive a person do to a hateful and evil thing, I wonder how badly such a person has been wounded in their life, and how much pain and suffering they carry around with them, most times without even knowing it. It makes me very sad to think that some people carry such burdens and that the only way they know how to deal with them is to lash out at others, in fear and anguish.

When I look at the world at large, I see the same anguish and hatred being perpetuated repeatedly, in many different forms such as the fight for equal rights, access to healthcare, starvation, and most especially war, both for profit and for religious ideals.

I often ask myself how to bandage the wounds of the world. The answer is quite simple in logic, but very difficult in its execution; to cultivate peace and act with love.

You're probably thinking, how do we do such a thing in the midst of all of this hatred?

Every small act of kindness cultivates peace, whether it is a smile, holding the door for someone or providing ears to hear them; these small acts cultivate both inner and outer peace in us and the people we come into contact with.

So, the first step toward following our Creator's command to love is to seek peace, first within ourselves, second within our communities and third in the world at large. Love will naturally follow, but we must work harder at loving one another than simply being nice to one another.

Loving one another is a great beast to slay; people always seem to be trying their best to resist both the love of their creator and the love given to them by their fellow human beings. It is my belief that this is caused by a cultural programming of "you're not good enough, rich enough or pretty enough unless you buy the right car, smoke the right cigarette and believe in the right image of God".

It takes much, much more work to love a person than to simply make peace with them. But this the work that has been set before us by our Creator, and must be attended to with the same enthusiasm as seeking peace.

As monastics, we spend our lives learning to do this single task. Because of our dedication to learning to love as God loves, other fruits of the spirit spring up naturally and with seemingly great ease. For example, I do not debate on whether to open a door for, or to smile at a stranger, I simply do it because it is the peaceful and loving thing to do.

But what about those who have wronged us? What do we do with the people who have hurt us so badly that we find it nigh impossible to truly forgive them, let alone love them?

We are taught through the Gospels that we are to pray for them and to offer them the peace of God. Their actions are a reflection of their heart. As I mentioned before, a person who does an evil or hurtful thing must be hurting inside, and so we must pray for our Creator to heal them. If we approach the situation from this point of view, forgiveness is not only possible, but it becomes easy.

I encourage you to take ten minutes each day and reflect on who is hurting in your life. You can probably guess correctly if you look for the warning signs; anger, manipulative, judgemental and dishonest behaviors, and gossip, just to name a few. These are the people who need forgiving, who need love, who thirst for peace.