I’m learning that it’s okay to be spiritual or religious and still sip on the juice of life. It’s a relief.
Until the mid-1600s, the standard image of a spiritual person or a monk was the hermit in a dry and barren desert. Religious and spiritual people were supposed to be silent, sober, and very serious about their worship. St. Benedict changed all that; as they came to be known, the Benedict Rules created a different kind of prayer, faith, and holiness.
Religion was about joy, he said. It was holy to be happy.
(Photo Art and June, good friends at the Mansion)
Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk, spiritual guide, mentor to me, and the father of meditation for everyone, was a hermit and spent much of his life complaining bitterly that he was not permitted to seek or promote a love of life.
Saint Benedict’s Rule organized the monastic day into regular periods of communal and private prayer, according to Wikipedia – sleep, spiritual reading, and manual labor – ut in omnibus glorificetur Deus, “that in all [things] God may be glorified” (cf. Rule ch. 57.9).
Benedict writes Joan Chittister in her excellent book “Grace–Filled Moments,” which changed the focus of monasticism and said it was all right for monks to have fun and share their love of life. “Rather than isolation from the components of life,” she wrote, “Benedict wanted those who follow his moderate, profound spiritual counsel to learn to live an ordinary life extraordinarily well.
He even told his monks that a modest glass of wine daily “is sufficient for each” and both devout and healthy.
Today, I told the Mansion residents about St. Benedice and said that many people are profoundly spiritual but not necessarily known for their asceticism and self-denial. “St. Nicholas, the modern for the modern Santa Claus, she writes, gave gifts to everyone. Jesus did the same thing.
The residents were shocked and curious to know more. I said I was a fan of St. Benedict and that I was one of those who believed that the purpose of spirituality was to bring happiness and fulfillment to everyone. Spiritually, like religion itself, is under siege today; our national temple is full of thieves and money changers.
Our government was once much more significant than corporate fatcats, but now the fatcats seem to be in charge.
“It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer,” said Jesus, “but ye have made it a den of thieves” (verse 22). The Bible says he went to the temple to drive them out and was killed for his condemnations. Our politicians and lobbyists better hope that he isn’t returning.
This is my idea of spiritualism, I told the residents. I’m one of those people for whom spirituality has brought love, joy, and happiness. It can be done. I can acknowledge trouble and danger but won’t let it take me over.
There is something about joy that is as holy as suffering.
Genuinely holy people know that life must be enjoyed, disciplined, severe, and grim. Life is much of what Chittister calls “the juice of life.”
Spiritualism does not require us to be grim and joyless. Joy is an essential part of the human condition.
I believe I have the right to be happy, as Benedict believed.
I am meant to be joyful because life is exemplary and should be enjoyed, not simply prayed over. Deprivation does not need to go with faith.
The residents’ heads were nodding. They said this was some of the best reading so far in the class, something they fully accepted and were relieved to hear.
“I never heard this,” said Claudia. “I want to find joy.”
The idea that religious belief had to be dour and only serious came at a time of religious extremists, who were taught that the body is terrible, even evil, humor was sacrilegious and a distraction, and even portraying the fruit of the vine was a sin. The body was evil, the home of sin.
And worshipping lightly or with joy was a form of heresy and could be punished by death.
Reading this aloud, I felt we are going through such a time in America. Religious extremists are seeking to deny same-sex marriage, homosexual rights, and trans-gender rituals and medications and deny freedom for trans parents and their children to define their own lives.
They are demanding that zealots and politicians take over our culture and tell parents and teachers what their children can reach.
To me, the rights of a family to make their faith health care and spiritual decisions are private and sacred. It is, to me, a sin, according to the Christian bargain, to persecute people who define life and family differently than we do. Politicians don’t dare to tell Mormon families how to define marriage and faith. Yet, they deprive many families of the same rights nationwide. As long as everyone looks like them, it’s okay.
Benedict called for “extremism in nothing, moderation in all things.” This transformed the idea of joyless faith and worship. It would work as a needed national anthem.
Chittister wrote that if the truth is known, “moderation is far more challenging to achieve and follow than extremism in either direction.”
It seems that for many people who call themselves religious, total abstinence and rigid doctrine are easier than perfect moderation.
I wish St. Benedict were running for President.
The Creator surely meant for us to enjoy life. David, overwhelmed with joy, danced in the Temple, and God was pleased.