The Second World Oblates Congress, Rome, October 2009
A Personal View by
Sue Thomson, Oblate of Prinknash Abbey
I had a lovely time! It was, as one oblate put it, ‘like going home to Grandma’s at Christmas
and meeting all the distant relatives’ - over two hundred of them from all over the world such was the sense of our gathering as Benedictine family. Indeed it was good to be in the
company of oblates from so many places, all representing their monasteries – some I’d
heard of (‘oh, you’re from there!’), many I hadn’t; great was the bond between us, born out
of common interest, familiarity and vision, great, too, was the obvious witness of enormous
love and warmth and loyalty to our own monasteries, the tug to our own spiritual homes.
It was good to live and share our faith through the liturgy, though a challenge at times as we
embraced celebrations in five languages... thank goodness for the commonality of Latin,
used increasingly in the Eucharist, and through conversation, at times an even greater
challenge as we (I) wrestled with languages that weren’t our (very poor) second, but we
shared ideas and ideals and meals, the agape nature of which always won through.
It was so good to have walked the way of St Benedict as we joyfully and prayerfully visited
those ‘oft heard-of’ Benedictine sites, the abbeys of Subiaco, Montecassino and Sant’
Anselmo – reflections on these places alone would be full of superlatives and could run to
thousands of words. How wonderful it was to kneel in prayer in St Benedict’s cave at
Subiaco and renew our Oblations in the presence of the relics of St Benedict at
Montecassino! Magnificent too, and humbling, was the generosity shown to us –
Benedictine hospitality indeed: dining in the fine refectory of Montecassino and feasting in
the cloisters at Sant’ Anselmo as night fell on our last evening, and then being serenaded by
the Abbot Primate, Dom Notker Wolf, on his flute (Brother Christian accompanying him on
the piano – what patient humour he’d shown to us all week in the chanting of the liturgy...
dulcet-toned most of us weren’t); what an end to the Congress, Abbot Notker making his
concluding remarks and sending greetings, his ‘very best wishes, from the big heart of a
small man to all oblates, everywhere.’
It was so good to be at this wonderful Congress, the organization of which was a mammoth
task in the first place, and was to be heroically carried through with love and generosity and not a little patience and self-sacrifice - whilst there. I am grateful for the opportunity to
have been present and thank all who supported me with their love and prayers and have
taken interest.
The object of the Congress, though, was not simply for us oblates to have ‘a lovely time’, but
was surely to give us a sense of the wider Benedictine family to which we belong and to
focus our minds and hearts on the nature of Oblate vocation, a vocation which one of our
Sisters described as ‘prophetic’, for at a time when monastic vocations are decreasing, those
of the lay oblate are increasing. Within this general objective, however, the specific one to
be addressed at this Second World Congress was entitled ‘The religious challenges in the
world today – the Benedictine answer’. This was a tall order; at the end of our week could
we even begin to think we came up with ‘an answer’... or to even begin the process of
finding an answer; is it that ‘answers’, like fruit, will grow slowly from good stock? First of
all, of course, we need to understand the question.
The brief we were given stated that the societies in which we now find ourselves living are
becoming ever more multi-ethnic, multi-cultural and multi-religious, as a result of which
Christianity is challenged to open itself to a new situation which contains an ‘other’,
meaning, that which was formerly distant, is now living on the same floor. We are now
facing the challenge – and frequently the fear – of ‘difference’; who is this ‘other’? The ‘our’
in the Our Father is brought home to us in a very tangible way which we might not have
thought about that much in the past when churches did not live side-by-side with mosques
and temples and council literature did not come translated in all those ‘strange and
squiggly’ languages; we are now jolted into having to consider who ‘our’ means... who is our
neighbour, whose neighbour am I, and are our attitudes consonant with the Gospel precept
of universal brotherhood?
We need to address the realization that ‘we’ are not the centre of the universe – that others
have received gifts from God; this we may ‘know’ in our minds... but how do we know it and
‘live’ it in our hearts, in the depth of our being... how are we to live and love as brothers and
sisters to those who are ‘different’, to those who worship at different altars – both religious
and secular? How, it was asked, are we to build bridges and break down walls which keep us
separate and perhaps suspect of those who are ‘not the same as us’? How are we to
envisage and build a ‘civilization of love’ which was the dream of Pope Paul VI?
Our brief put forward the hope that this dream could be realized by Benedictine oblates
setting out together on the road of dialogue with the world. I have to admit that I don’t care
for the word ‘dialogue’; it seems a bit ‘fuzzy’ and I’m not sure what it means. My dictionary
offers the following: conversation, chat, interview, discussion, exchange of ideas... all of
which somehow miss the mark, for without an adjective –‘deep’, ‘warm’, ‘intimate’ – they
seem cold, but wait... what about this offering - ‘channel of communication’... this surely
opens the way of love and attention to others for it goes to the very heart of Trinitarian love
– picture Rublev’s well-known icon in which the Three Persons of the Trinity incline their
whole being to the other. When we incline our whole being to others, when we pay real
attention to them, when we really listen to them with both our ears and heart – rather than
putting ourselves in the centre – our thoughts, opinions, advice, solutions – we may just...
just... recognise that Other who dwells within them.
As oblates we are mindful of the wisdom of St. Benedict when he begins his Rule with the
instruction to listen: ‘Listen, my son, to your master’s precepts, and incline the ear of your
heart’. The importance of listening permeated all our talks and discussions on inter-religious
dialogue: the need to listen receptively and not judgementally; to listen, not in order to
negotiate or compete but to contemplate the other, a Hawaiian oblate speaking of a
beautiful phrase used in her culture, that of ‘listening with fourteen hearts’.
Opening our hearts and listening to others, of course, tends to soften – to expand - the
heart and it makes us vulnerable; might it be that society – Christians in society - may see
risk in this sort of dialogue with the fear of ‘isms’ getting the upper hand -relativism,
syncretism, secularism and indifferentism - resulting in the view that it’s less risky to keep
up a defensive and insular front... or a low profile, battening down the hatches. Such
concerns are surely born out of the fear that comes from not really knowing our own
identity as Christians; there is therefore a real need for us to know the tenets of our faith
and ‘the reason for our hope’ (1 Peter 3:15-16), and to be firm and confident in following
Him who is ‘the way, and the truth and the life’ (John 14:6); with such ‘armour’ we surely
have nothing to lose but everything to gain.
So, how may we build those bridges and break down the walls which separate us so as to
build this ‘civilization of love’? Many thoughts were shared by our keynote speakers of the
different faiths and by oblates, but I would like to focus on the practice of contemplative
prayer – or meditation - as presented by Dom Laurence Freeman, seeing it as a tool which
enables us to incline our whole being to recognise the presence of God dwelling in the
other, a tool whereby we may both come to know the beauty of our own identity but not let
our own ‘me-ness’, ego – blot out God and other.1
As Benedictines we pray the Divine Office which is essentially vocal prayer, that is, mental,
and St Benedict is prescriptive as to how to do this in twelve minutiae-filled chapters, we, as
oblates, praying it as we can, in the circumstances of our lives. Indeed Benedict’s ‘minimum
Rule for beginners’ is filled with minutiae; it may seem pernickety but in reality it contains
the essence of a beautiful spiritual teaching. It provides the means to get along with others
and to live regulated - and balanced - lives in which ‘good zeal’ may be practised which leads
to preferring ‘nothing whatever to Christ’ (ch.72), this preference enabling his followers to
‘walk in his paths by the guidance of the Gospel’ (Prologue), ‘that in all things God may be
glorified’ (ch. 57). The Rule, then, provides the optimum conditions for contemplative
prayer, Benedict alluding to this in his last chapter (ch. 73) when he points to the teaching of
the holy Fathers. The Rule puts ‘stuff’ into place; it surely puts the ego in place, that which
grows big and becomes out of hand so that we fill the big picture and not God or others –
1
For a transcript of Fr Laurence’s talk, ‘The Contemplative Oblate Today’, go to www.benedictine-oblates.org.
others who are ‘different’ to us - members of our own communities, parishes or families...
or, in the context of our theme, those of different colours or creeds or customs. 2
This is not the place for a thesis on what constitutes ‘contemplative prayer’; 3 what does
seem plain though is that we have to exercise self-discipline so as to put ourselves into the
position that we might contemplate and that is the work –the ascesis –of meditation. Fr
Laurence’s teaching is in the Christian monastic tradition of the desert, of Cassian, referred
to by St Benedict, and regained by the likes of Dom John Main; it is simple... we only need to
withdraw, sit still, be silent and say our sacred word interiorly for 30 minutes, twice a day,
every day. In meditation we don’t measure our ‘success’; we put ourselves aside and enter
that poverty of spirit where we come to union with Christ, where we are ‘all one in Christ
Jesus’ (Galatians 3:28), whatever our religion, culture or ethnicity.
We might baulk at such a practice for it is demanding; ‘what, sit still...what a luxury to be
able to do that, when will I find time in my busy life...it’s alright for monks and nuns who
have a timetable which allows for such...’ we might say, except we who know something of
life in monasteries know that the framework might be in place but it’s no easier, there are
always things to do and minds are full of clutter. There will always be tension between
‘doing’ and ‘being’; nobody’s life can be completely contemplative, the question is, how do
we integrate these strands? If Martha has been called ‘the saint of stress’ because her
anxiety over ‘doing’ lead to fragmentation, we may surely look to St Benedict as ‘the saint of
integration’ because of his balanced way, and so we, as oblates, seriously seeking Christ,
have to seek balance, live our lives ‘in the world’ but take time away, to withdraw.
In conclusion, any ascetic practice we take on must surely have only one aim, ut in omnibus
glorificetur Deus (ch. 57), and if, in integrating meditation into our lives, we are able to be
centres of contemplation in which we rest in God, we may recognise Him dwelling in those
who are, after all, not so different from us... for we are all made in His image; in ‘knowing’
this in our hearts and minds we may indeed go forward positively to build that civilization of
love.
I had a lovely time at the Congress... and I unexpectedly discovered ‘the pearl of great
price’...
2
One of our speakers reflected on a Buddhist’s perception of the Cross in Western Christianity as being an
upright, representing ‘I’, that is ‘me, me, me’, with the crossbeam being ‘your boss, Jesus, who came to cut
your ‘I’ off’...
3
On different expressions of prayer, vocal, meditation and contemplative, see the Catechism, nos. 2700-2724