One of the reasons the Benedictine tradition speaks to me is its commitment to a spirituality of stability. Benedict says, “The workshop where we are to toil faithfully at all these tasks is the enclosure of the monastery and stability in the community.”[1] Stability for Benedict is not just stability to the principles and values of the community, but to place, to the monastery. And I think churches and Christians can learn from this monastic commitment in our own practice of Christian community.
Opting for a spirituality of stability roots us in our neighborhoods and among our neighbors. It calls us to engage across differences and to work towards the common good with folks who have their own unique experiences, cultures, and practices. A neighborhood, much like a family and even a monastery, disrupts any desire to create a community in our own image or to exclusively seek out like-mindedness. Instead, we can acknowledge that God has called us to be community in and among the folks we live closest to and devote our attention to building that community even when there is disagreement or tension.
This is a radical practice in a world increasingly occupied by communities of like-mindedness and social isolation. This withdrawal from the stability of our neighborhoods contributes to the division and the polarization so prevalent in our politics, and to the extraction of vital community functions from our communities. When a community becomes dislodged from a place all kinds of corruption and divestment becomes possible contributing to gentrification and marginalization and to the fear of the stranger and the neighbor.
A commitment to a spirituality of stability also challenges us to learn how to be a community that celebrates abundance. The hyper-mobility of American culture contributes to a consumer mentality that is always on the look out for more and better. It’s a story of scarcity that tells us there is never enough.
But a commitment to stability, to the long-term investment in a place, challenges us to discover the abundance often overlooked in the neighborhood. When I know that this is my place, this is where God has called me to follow Jesus, I am set free from the illusion of greener grass, and free to invest my time and attention to what is already strong her and now. A spirituality of stability is an antidote to a culture that always promises something newer and better.
Joan Chittister, the wise and witty Benedictine writer, says:
When the monastic makes a vow of stability it is a vow designed to still the wandering heart. There comes a time in life when everyone else’s family seems to have been better than my own. There comes a moment when having everything seems to be the only way to squeeze even a little out of life. There comes a day when this job, this home, this town, this family all seem irritating and deficient beyond the bearable. There comes a period in life when I regret every major decision I’ve ever made. That is precisely the time when the spirituality of stability offers its greatest gift. Stability enables me to outlast the dark, cold places of life until the thaw comes and I can see new life in this uninhabitable place again.[2]
Church that is committed to place requires an investment beyond fiscal years or our wishes for swift transformation. It is long-term, generational work that moves at the speed of our relationships. Churches have the opportunity to offer a counter-narrative to the hyper-mobile a la carte communities of like-mindedness by rooting themselves in place for the long term. And Benedictine spirituality and many monastic traditions can offer us the language to integrate the stability of place into our life of faith.
Questions for Reflection
- How long has your congregation been in its current neighborhood? How do you notice the neighborhood influencing or informing your congregation’s ministry?
- How do you notice a culture of consumption and hyper-mobility showing up in your congregation or your neighborhood? What are the signs of this culture in your context?
- What are the practices or experiences that help you to feel rooted and connected to your neighborhood?
[1] Timothy Fry; Timothy Horner; Imogene Baker; Fry, Timothy. The Rule of St. Benedict in English (p. 29). Liturgical Press. Kindle Edition.
[2] Joan Chittister, OSB. Wisdom Distilled from the Daily (p. 151). HarperSanFrancisco.
