Becoming God's Gateway

St. Benedict devoted the longest chapter in his Rule to the cultivation of humility. Certainly we can benefit greatly by remembering that “God is God and I am not.” However, it also can be discouraging to dwell on our human weakness. As we hear of countries engaged in bitter wars over land and natural resources, immigrants being shunned, and the rich getting richer while the poor struggle to survive, we wonder if the human race will ever grow beyond self-interest. As we ourselves continue to struggle with our own faults of ambition, judgment, addiction, and selfishness, we may wonder if we will ever be able to change.

The spiritual writer Henri Nouwen offers this perspective: “We have been chosen to make our own limited and very conditional love the gateway for the unlimited and unconditional love of God.”

God, who understands our human limitations very well, nonetheless chooses to work through our tentative and conditional attempts to love others to express God’s own love, mercy, and compassion. We cannot assume that our small acts of support and care won’t make a difference in the face of a world awash in greed and hard-heartedness. To fail to act because we don’t believe our actions will make a difference is a form of false humility. It also demonstrates a lack of faith in God’s ability to offer unlimited and unconditional love to the world.

St. John of the Cross summed up this situation succinctly: “Where there is no love, put love, and you will find love.” No effort on our part is too small to be a conduit to God’s blessings of peace, loving kindness, and acceptance.

My, My, My

St. Benedict viewed private ownership as a vice, and he was serious about uprooting it. Here is a list of what the monks in his monastery were provided: a cowl, tunic, sandals, shoes, belt, knife, stylus, needle, handkerchief, and writing tablet. Otherwise, no one was to give or receive anything without the permission of the abbot — no gifts from family members, not even a book. This is why, years ago, books used by the sisters at Mount St. Scholastica were inscribed with the words “Ad usum” — “For the use of” — a reminder that this item was not a private possession but was on loan and thus should be well cared for.

When studying Chapter 33 of the Rule of St. Benedict, “Monks and Private Ownership,” an oblate candidate recently decided to pay attention to how often she used the word “my” in conversation. She was astounded at how often she used the word, not only in regard to possessions but to relationships and intangible things as well — “my sister,” “my job,” “my plans.” Are these things we can actually own? What are we saying with our constant use of the word “my”?

St. Benedict likely was so adamantly opposed to owning possessions for a number of reasons. The practice lends itself to envy and greed rather than gratitude; it leads us to measure our worth by how much we own; it promotes self-sufficiency, rather than an awareness of our dependence on God; it places our focus on ourselves rather than on the needs of others; and it consumes much of our energy, which is directed toward acquiring and protecting our possessions rather than “spending” time with God, family, and friends.

We won’t be able to take any of our possessions with us after we die, so why burden ourselves with them now? Let’s give ourselves the pleasure of walking more lightly on the earth, relinquishing the possessions that weigh us down and trusting in God’s loving providence and care.