I have a little girl in my house that likes to admit when she doesn’t want to do something. I appreciate her honesty, however, as

a parent, there are times when I really don’t care what she doesn’t want to do. For instance, I don’t care that she doesn’t want to get the napkins for the dinner table. I don’t care that she doesn’t want to pick up her toys and put them away. These may be small things (perhaps larger things in the life of a six year old), but they are important nonetheless. These moments of learning responsibility and self-regulation are the building blocks for what comes later in life. In my childhood I used to hear comments about building character from time to time. I likely rolled my eyes back then, but I understand it fully now.

Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like. It may not be that we hate the activity; perhaps we just don’t want to do it at a particular time or on a particular day, or because there is something else just then that we’d rather do. So we do it. That’s maturity. That’s responsibility. That’s the effect of our parents making us do things like cutting the grass and eating our vegetables. We learn that some things transcend our desires and our natural inclinations.

I have recently begun studying the Rule of St. Benedict again. Benedict lived through the turn of the 6th century, a monastic in the days before the Church was divided between east and west. His Rule is still in use today as a blueprint for how to live in Christian community and how to pattern our spiritual lives in such a way that we continue to grow and thrive. While it is particularly useful for those in monastic communities, especially those parts of the Rule that apply to such communities, there is a richness in Benedict’s Rule that benefits all Christians who choose to study it.

The Benedictine way of life is centered on three vows: stability, conversion, and obedience. Stability has to do with our commitment to the common life we find ourselves in, from the monastery to our family or our parish – whatever community to which we have pledged ourselves. Conversion is an aspect of ongoing openness to the presence of God in our midst. It is the third vow that I was thinking about recently, however, especially in light of my feisty little one. Esther de Waal, an Anglican scholar who has studied Benedict, particularly the influence Benedict has had on Anglicanism (which she became passionate about while her husband was Rector of Canterbury) has said this:

“But there is a third vow, that of obedience. This used to present me with difficulties until I realized that it came from the word obaudiens, to listen intently, to listen to the voice of God, to hear God’s voice and follow it – so that we are led along the path of God’s will rather than our own. This means that the point of reference in my life will always be the presence of God, to whom I listen and respond with a yes that comes not from fear but from that love which St. Benedict presents to us as the mark, above all, of the Christian.”

Within the context of a rule of life, this obedience calls us to follow the rule as a way to listen for and respond to the voice of God, even if we don’t want to. Like de Waal, I typically think obedience is a negative word, although I have largely been obedient my entire life. It has some kind of connotation that prevents misbehaving, or has a threat somewhere in it, just out of reach. And yet in this new light, it is a helpful word, a helpful vow, when taken in its original meaning that is centered on listening and connection. There are so many times I have trouble hearing God, and I’ve counseled enough folks to know I’m not alone in this. Perhaps one of the secrets to correcting that is to take the cue from Benedict and the vow of obedience.

Putting napkins on the table is mundane and seemingly pointless when dad asks you to do it, and yet napkins are important parts of a successful and tidy meal. On occasion my daughter’s patient mother has tried to reason with her that sometimes we don’t want to cook dinner either, but that we do it anyway so no one goes hungry. We do learn that some things need doing even when we don’t want to do them. There are elements of our spiritual life that are the same. When I was learning to pray the Daily Office as a daily practice for example, whoever my teacher was (I can no longer remember who said it), they explained to our group that there will come a time when we don’t want to do it. It’s boring. It takes too long. It’s inconvenient. We were told to keep on doing it nonetheless, and that eventually, the boring nature, the length, the inconvenience – all of it would fall away and we would fall into a rhythm, and ultimately be carried along and comforted by the ancient prayers and their familiarity. That advice was absolutely correct.

I have spoken of the benefit of a rule of life before, as a means to staying fresh and deepening our spiritual lives. It isn’t easy to do, but it is really important. One piece of it is this aspect of obedience. Once establishing a rule, we must live into it, even when we don’t want to. This might take the form of the Daily Office for you, or some other devotional. It might be participating in the rhythm of Sunday mornings, even on those Sundays when you don’t really want to go. There is something powerful in the obedience of listening for God and showing up to hear what God has to say, even, and perhaps especially, when we don’t want to do it.

If you have trouble listening to God, perhaps obedience is the answer. One day’s prayers may not matter to you; one long Sunday service may not move the earth under your feet. But it’s not the one day or the one service or the one prayer, just as it isn’t not the napkin or the particular toy that needs put away. It is something larger that is building and growing. It is something much deeper and much richer. It helps us make God the point of reference in our life. So don’t give in too easily. It matters if we can keep our rule, whatever our rule may be. And if we don’t have one, perhaps we might explore creating one. Feel free to let me know if you need or want some help in this regard. Perhaps there are enough of us who would benefit that we could form a small group to get the ball rolling.

Remember, “rule” isn’t about rules in today’s common use, but is best thought of as “regular”, it’s original meaning. Perhaps a lowly monk who lived 1500 years ago can help us. As de Waal says of Benedict’s rule, “God does not demand the unusual, spectacular, the heroic,” but rather, “that I do the most ordinary, often dreary and humdrum things that face me each day with a loving openness that will allow them to become my own immediate way to God.” To that I say, Amen.

Tom

Almighty God, by whose grace St. Benedict, kindled with the fire of your love, became a burning and a shining light in the church: inflame us with the same spirit of discipline and love, that we may walk before you as children of light; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.