Rule of St. Benedict, Chapters 50-61
BOOK CLUB 1 | WEEK 5: Poverty, Relationships, and Hospitality
As a reminder, you can access the text of St. Benedict’s Rule here. If you’d like to visit the Book Club table of contents, you can do so here. Please note that this section was originally titled “Special Circumstances, Relationships, and Hospitality”.
We’re back to a more piecemeal format this week, as the reading selection touches on a wide variety on topics. I’ve tried to separate the reading into two overarching topics - “prayer and poverty” and “relationships and hospitality” - but at the end of the day, there are a lot of miscellaneous items covered in this section of the Rule, which means a lot of miscellaneous applications to our family lives. I hope that some of them speak to you!
Chapter 50-52, 54-55, 57, 59-60: Prayer and poverty
Perhaps the most important chapter in this category is Chapter 52, which discusses the role and the functioning of the monastery’s oratory. In many ways, Benedict wants the Oratory to serve as the heart and anchor of the community, and I think a similar approach to our family lives is invaluable. If you do not currently have a little oratory in your home, I would highly recommend making one. A small table, a kneeler, or an underutilized closet can make for an excellent home oratory, and you can build out from there to highlight your family’s particular devotions.
However, as Benedict highlights, it’s important that the home Oratory be treated with reverence and respect. If possible, the ideal would be to have the oratory in a quiet but not inaccessible part of the home. This allows the Oratory to be visited by any family member or guest, but also ensures that prayer isn’t, of necessity, disturbed by the patter of little feet or the shouts of tiny bodies. Additionally, it is ideal that the furniture that “anchors” your oratory would not also serve as a different piece of furniture (for example, placing an oratory on a kitchen counter or entryway shoe stand):
Let the oratory be an oratory and nothing else, nor let anything be kept or anything be done there that is incongruous.
That being said, many home and apartment layouts do not allow for this, so finding a place and set-up that works in your space is more important than finding the perfect space. It is ultimately our attitude of reverence and respect that will allow our home oratories to become places of prayer and rest (and not, as ours is prone to, places to hang-dry clean laundry…) I’m planning to write about the process and goals of making a home Oratory later in the fall; in the meantime, however, here is a post by my friend Steffani that covers all the basics.
And if the oratory is (or, if we want it to be) the spiritual heart of our home, then even when we are not home, we can maintain our connection with our family by participating in the same prayers at the same hours, in whatever location we find ourselves. For example, if the general schedule of ora et labora that we discussed in last week’s section includes saying the Angelus or the Regina Caeli at noon, then all members of the family can participate - those at home can pray at the Oratory, and those at work, on a trip, or visiting friends can do so in those locations. Not only does this practice allow us to maintain our rhythm and anchor us in prayer throughout our day, it also allows us to be spiritually united with our families during times of physical separation.
This point - regarding times of prayer undertaken in other places - leads Benedict to a further point: any monk who is away from the monastery ought not break his disciplines, prayer habits, or ascetic practices merely because he is not at home. This consistency and fidelity is so challenging for me. For as long as I can remember, Christmas and summer breaks have left me unmoored and restless, rather than refreshed and renewed. When we allow ourselves to make excuses - I’m on vacation; I’m already out of my normal routine; it’s just this once; it would be rude to say no to that slice of cake - and give ourselves a break from the disciplines that shape our normal daily lives, we hoist the anchor that keeps us from drifting. Of course, there are times when those excuses are genuinely true - but it is for precisely that reason that Benedict asks the monks (and us!) to rely on the judgement of a trustworthy, holy, and neutral authority figure rather than on our own willpower. This attitude also allows us to cultivate a poverty of spirit, as it reminds us that we are not entitled to everything we desire, that we are not our own.
Benedict continues to discuss this theme of poverty of spirit when talking about the ways in which rich and poor individuals ought to be received into the monastic community, particularly when they are young children whose families are still alive.1 He commands that no distinction be made between those of noble birth and those born to poverty. Both, equally, are called to renounce their materials goods upon entering the monastery. And while it may not be prudent for parents and families to eschew all material goods, there is certainly something to be said for cultivating an attitude of detachment.
We accumulate so much stuff in our modern lives. We celebrated our daughter’s second birthday last month, and she received so many stuffies, games, books, toys, and clothes. I’m having to teach myself the lesson that my mother tried to teach me as a child: There is no moral obligation to keep every single thing that enters your home. Whether you use it for a short time, a long time, or no time at all, once a thing has outlived its usefulness in your family, the charitable thing to do is to pass it along to someone who will use it. This will look different for every family - perhaps older children can sort through their toys and decide on a few to give as presents to family members or friends; younger children may not be ready for this, so the responsibility may fall on mom and dad to get rid of those things that are not necessary. I am also learning that it is simpler in the long run to vet gifts and purchases at the outset to ensure that they support our family’s values.2 If not, I am trying to be efficient at setting the item aside before an emotional attachment can be formed. I frequently have to remind myself that, for every mediocre story or cute-ish toy, there are better, holier, more wholesome options that do the same job without the fluff or the necessity for intense discussions.
I want to speak in more depth on this topic in the fall, but there is so much room for creating a culture of detachment, reuse, and generosity in the church today. I recently attended a Mother’s Group toy/clothing swap - everyone brought the things they no longer need, and everyone “shopped” for things they did need, or things they wanted to gift to others, or things for their classroom. What remained at the end of the morning was donated to local charitable organizations or placed in the church’s family bathroom support shelf.3 And, of course, hand-me-down, from older to younger siblings, or from one family to another, are an incredible act of charity that often just keeps giving as different families hold onto things they need and pass on things they don’t.
We’re also - with a two-year-old and a four-month-old - learning how to discuss the things in our home as “our things” and not “my things”. In many cases, a toy might belong to one child at a certain age, and then be used by a younger child when they reach that age. (Right now, in our home, it’s biting toys or teethers, and onesies. “No, my toy! No, my shirt!”) This is a unique opportunity for us as parents to instill a habit of detachment and generosity in our children by allowing them to experience the challenges and joys of sharing with younger siblings or friends. It is, of course, our job as parents to notice and provide for the needs of our children, including their basic biological needs and their situation-specific needs (school supplies, uniforms for sports, supplies for creative work, etc.) But we can do so without allowing our children to indulge the childish but oh-so-human tendency to hoard stuff.
Another interesting aspect of this detachment that Benedict discusses relates to artists and creative work. It leads me to question how we can encourage creativity in our children (and in ourselves!) without cultivating pride. How can we develop skills and encourage mastery while putting our talents at the service of others? The answer Benedict gives that most struck me regards, not the practice of art or creativity, but the sharing of it:
And let not the evil of avarice creep in in the matter of the prices charged for the goods; but let them always be sold somewhat more cheaply than they can be sold by others who are seculars, that in all things God may be glorified.
In other words, we can glorify God by making beautiful art and by making it available and accessible. We can glorify God by not asking for or receiving what we fully “deserve” for our work. And we can glorify God by our witness to those we work with and work for be remaining humble through it all. Benedict doesn’t advise artisans to compromise on the quality of their work; rather, he encourages them to use that work to glorify God rather than self.
Taking this concept a step further, we can have the same attitude in our family lives and in our service to one another. Rather than expecting our vocation or our sacrifices for the family to be met with honors or gushing thanks or an evening to put our feet up, can we fulfill our duties as they are made known to us without grasping at pride? Quietly, with an eye to detail and a heart for doing the thing well, but without expecting any return whatsoever? In so doing, the Lord will be able to work through us to influence our families, our friends, and our wider community. If we remain poor in spirit in this way, we can give glory to God through our very lives.
Chapters 53, 56, 58, 61: Hospitality and relationships
The other major theme in this week’s reading is hospitality and relationship. Benedict encourages us to see in our guests - overnight visitors, dinner guests, friends stopping by, and even (if circumstances permit) those who knock on the door to sell us things - Christ Himself coming to our home:
And above all let care be scrupulously shewn in receiving the poor and strangers; for in them specially is Christ received. For the fear that the rich inspire itself secures deference for them.
What a radical shift in perspective this can be. If we truly saw every soul who entered our home as Christ, how much more would we strive to be courteous, kind, and welcoming? How much more intentional effort would we make to take care of their needs?4 Benedict goes on to discuss the importance of having a few things ready in case of expected or unexpected guests. Even if this is simply a box of snacks and water bottles, this small act of care and preparation allows us to focus on being welcoming without totally throwing our routines out the window. The aforementioned and all-important box of snacks, allows your guest to be tended to while you chat, prepare the next meal, or tend to your children. Alternatively, if you have a guest room, you can do your best to keep it tidied and ready; if you have a guest couch, keep a set of clean sheets in a designated location.
Benedict also directs that the responsibilities of hospitality be divided such that they are not a burden on any one member of the community. The head of the household ought to play a special part in welcoming guests whenever possible, and the homemaker will likely take on most of the preparations around the home; however, wherever possible, we ought to recruit children, friends, or extended family to aid us in living out this charism so that it does not become a burden or an occasion for grumbling and resentment.
Benedict also focuses on the relationships within the monastery, not simply on the care of guests who visit from the outside world. We can read in these chapters the importance of one-on-one time between parents and children, whether at dinner, on special “dates”, or simply playing and working and praying together during the course of the day. Where we see virtue thriving in one member of the family, we ought to celebrate it and thank God for the gift of the person and their virtue. Where we see greater capacity for responsibility, we ought to grant greater freedom and greater authority.
Likewise, as we begin to see the life of grace take hold in our children, we ought to intentionally teach them about the discernment of spirits and personal discernment in a way that is appropriate to their age and maturity. While their “big-V Vocation” may still seem miles away, we can encourage them to choose their friendships carefully, to take more ownership of the books they choose to read. For older children, we can considering helping them to find a spiritual direction, especially in those all-important years when the faith begins to fully come alive in them:
And let there be deputed to take charge of him, a senior, such an one as is well fitted to win souls, to be solicitous for his welfare and to watch with scrupulous care, whether in very truth he seek God and be solicitous as to the Work of God, obedience and humiliations.
So often, that green zeal is not directed properly, and can quickly become burnout, scrupulosity, or apathy. Under the care of discerning parents and a faithful spiritual director, we can hope that our children will be set up for success as they begin to make the faith their own. And of course, we can and should regularly pray for one another, bringing our loved ones to the Lord’s feet as we discern decisions in our lives and strive to live out our vocations well.
The flip side of this is, of course, having the humility to receive feedback, even when it’s challenging. I love the way that Benedict talks about the abbot’s response to outside opinions and critiques - he is not to accept the critique mindlessly or with an overly trusting attitude, but neither is he to outright reject is as impossible or insulting. Rather, he is instructed to conduct his own inquiry, remaining open to the possibility that the one doing the critiquing has been sent by the Lord:
Indeed if in a reasonable manner and with the humility of charity he rebukes or points out anything amiss let the abbot prudently investigate the matter lest by chance God sent him for this very thing.
Between strangers on the internet, well-meaning extended family members, and our own inner critics, the modern world is oversaturated with ~ f e e d b a c k ~ in all its forms: research and statistics about the best parenting choices, old wives tales about pregnancy and birth, glory stories and horror stories about every possible decision we can make. It is extremely like - even inevitable - that those members of our extended family and friends who we see regularly will have thoughts and opinions to share regarding our parenting, our marriage, our faith, and our homes. This will be the case whether these loved ones are living in the same space as we are, living nearby, or visiting frequently. It is our role as parents both to honestly and non-defensively evaluate (well-meaning) feedback when its offered, and to moderate the presence of such individuals in our lives to best support our family’s growth in holiness.
If a friend or family member or neighbor is bringing us to the Lord and pursing Him alongside us, Benedict would encourage us not to fear the possible burden of drawing them closer into our lives. Surrounding ourselves with those who are pursuing holiness can only bear good fruit. And on the other hand, we can’t be afraid to set frank but charitable boundaries with those who do not bring us or our children closer to the Lord. This is, unfortunately, also nearly inevitable, and it’s okay to say “not today” or “only on certain terms” when interacting with family members or friends whose choices, habits, or lifestyles do not set the example our children need.
Finally, we can wrap up this week’s discussion with another immensely practical direction from Benedict: the mutual consent of the abbots for monks who wish to transfer from one monastery to another. In other words, an abbot is not to receive a monk into his community from another community without a letter of permission from his previous abbot. Please, Benedict is telling us, make sure that your kids’ friends’ parents know where to find their children when those children are with you. You’d expect the same courtesy if your child showed up at their house unannounced.
Questions for Consideration and Discussion
Does your family have a home oratory or home altar? How does it function within your family’s life of prayer?
Do you feel called to embrace poverty of spirit and/or detachment from material goods? If so, what’s one concrete step you can take this week to cultivate that virtue?
Does your family have a special charism for hospitality? Or do you, like I do, find yourselves scrambling to clean the living room five minutes before the physical therapist arrives?
Have you had a situation in which you intentionally tried to cultivate a relationship with a particularly holy individual? What about a situation where you had to set boundaries with someone who was not bringing you/your family closer to Christ? How did this decision impact your family?
In addition to those who joined the religious life out of genuine zeal or desire for sanctity, families would sometimes send a younger son to the monastery. Members of the nobility likely did so as a tithe (giving back to God a portion of the sons you had received), in hopes of receiving blessings (spiritual or material) for their sacrifice, or in the worst case, for political machinations (if the monastery played a prominent role in the local or universal Church). Poor families may have done so with the hopes that their son would be raised, educated, and materially and spiritually cared for. For more information, you can read pp. 75 ff. of John Henry Newman’s A Benedictine Education, published by Cluny Media.
I am specifically thinking here of three things: first, the discussion of symbolism in Michael O’Brien’s A Landscape with Dragons and the ways in which symbols can be objectively neutral but culturally dangerous; second, the Montessori concept of entertainment versus engagement, and toys that facilitate one or the other end; and third, of the many discussions of setting boundaries around personal and family use of technology in the home that have occurred on Substack lately, especially this recent post on
.This is something we recently implemented at our parish, and I’m in love. We installed a shelving unit and stocked it with diapers and wipes, spare onesies, pads/tampons, coloring pages, a toilet seat reducer, water bottles, and the like - free for the taking when that inevitable emergency strikes.
Furthermore, can we choose to manifest this hospitality elsewhere? We live in a city with a large homeless population - how can we see Christ in them?
Loved this deeply insightful post Sara. I'll actually print it out and read it over more slowly again on paper. Which makes me wonder - have you considered working your Rule of St. Benedict reflections into a book? It would strike me as something that I would most definitely enjoy reading along on my breakfast table (where I usually read my non-fiction).
Thanks also for the mention :) I actually have just been re-reading O'Brien's Landscape of Dragons last week. The recommended book list at the end (which takes us about a fourth of the book) is superb as well.