Читать книгу Listen My Son - Dwight Longenecker - Страница 21

The third kind of monk is the abominable one of Sarabaites, who have not been tested by a rule, as gold is tested in a furnace, nor been taught by experience, but are like soft lead. They keep faith with this world by their actions, but manifestly lie to God by their tonsure. These people live in twos and threes, or even alone; they have no shepherd, they shut themselves up in their own sheepfolds, not those of the Lord; and their law consists in yielding to their desires: what they like or choose they call holy, and they reckon illicit whatever displeases them.

The fourth kind of monk are those called Wanderers. These are never stable throughout their whole lives but wanderers through diverse regions, receiving hospitality in the monastic cells of others for three or four days at a time. Always roving and never settling, they follow their own wills, enslaved by the attractions of gluttony. They are in all respects worse than the Sarabaites.

It is better to pass over in silence than to speak further of the unhappy way of life of all these people, so let us pass them by, and with God's help set about organising the strongest kind of monks – the Cenobites.

Benedict discusses the four types of monk in order to highlight the beauty and wisdom of the cenobitic life – the religious life lived within the confines of a monastic community. In doing so he also exposes some problems with two other approaches to religion and life generally.

To be a good Catholic is to be cenobitic. The cenobite submits to a greater authority and lives in a community of obedience with those who share his authority structure. The sarabaite, on the other hand, is one who sets up shop on his own. There are many sarabaitic Christians. They determine what their authority structure is, and as Benedict points out, too often ‘what they like or choose they call holy, and they reckon illicit whatever displeases them’. Sarabaitic Christians reject the teaching authority of the Church. They interpret Scripture according to their own needs, and the necessities of their age. Such a relativistic approach to the Christian life can only be ephemeral and ultimately destructive.

Benedict also recognizes the temptation to be a religious wanderer. For these ‘gyrovagues’ Benedict reserves the most scorn. The sarabaite Christians set up shop according to their own insights and opinions, but the gyrovague doesn't even have the courage or conviction to do that. Instead he wanders from one religious community to another like a bored goat. For him the grass is always greener on the other side of the monastic enclosure. He is thus destined to be constantly discontented, and subsequently to become a disgruntled complainer.

Similarly, in our consumer society it is all too easy for Christians to go ‘church shopping’. With their own set of standards, they wander from church to church looking for the perfect community, the right music, the best priest. Such Christians not only never settle, but they usually cause trouble wherever they go. When a Christian father takes his family church shopping he subtly teaches them several untruths. First, that they are the final arbiters of which is the best church. Secondly, if they can choose from the different churches, then all churches are equally true. Finally, if they choose by personal preference they conclude that the form of worship is more important than the content.

Instead Benedict teaches that we learn everything through loyalty to the community we have been given. We should neither set up on our own nor wander about looking for the ideal life. It is our job to ‘bloom where we are planted’. We should work to change for the better what can be changed, and to endure what cannot be changed.