“St. Benedict . . . found the world, physical and social, in ruins, and his mission was to restore it in the way, not of science, but of nature . . . not professing to do it by any set time or by any rare specific or by any series of strokes, but so quietly, patiently, gradually . . . Silent men were observed about the country, or discovered in the forest, digging, clearing, and building; and other silent men, not seen, were sitting in the cold cloister, tiring their eyes, and keeping their attention on the stretch, while they painfully deciphered and copied and re-copied the manuscripts which they had saved. There was no one that “contended, or cried out,” or drew attention to what was going on; but by degrees the woody swamp became a hermitage, a religious house, a farm, an abbey, a village, a seminary, a school of learning, and a city . . .
“And then, when they had in the course of many years gained their peaceful victories, perhaps some new invader came, and with fire and sword undid their slow and persevering toil in an hour . . . and nothing was left to them but to begin all over again; but this they did without grudging, so promptly, cheerfully, and tranquilly, as if it were by some law of nature that the restoration came, and they were like the flowers and shrubs and fruit trees which they reared, and which, when ill-treated, do not take vengeance, or remember evil, but give forth fresh branches, leaves, or blossoms, perhaps in greater profusion, and with richer quality, for the very reason that the old were rudely broken off.”
— From Historical Sketches, John Henry Newman
St. Benedict (480-547) lived during the collapse of the Roman Empire. The most powerful political entity in the history of the world, Rome and her extended reach from Britain to Asia collapsed because of corruption from within and invasions from without.
Those who lived through this turbulence must have felt that the world was coming to an end, or at least the political, cultural, and economic underpinnings of their society.
Bright lights
Benedict, the son of a noble in Umbria, abandoned his life of study in Rome because of the moral darkness he encountered there, and ultimately became a hermit in a cave near Subiaco.
He did not set out to change the world, only himself, seeking the Lord in a life of prayer, solitude, and mortification.
Gradually, other like-minded Christians joined him and Benedict became the father of Western monasticism, writing his famous Rule and building the famous monastery at Monte Cassino.
The beginning quote from St. John Newman eloquently speaks to the transforming power of Catholic monasticism during the “Dark Ages.”
As civilization collapsed around them, the monks and Nuns evangelized the people, saved the ancient learning of Greece and Rome, and developed agriculture, architecture, philosophy, theology, medicine, and education.
They were bright lights in an age of political chaos, cultural decay, unbridled violence, and the collapse of an empire.
Quietly, persistently, and effectively, the monks and Nuns rebuilt civilization on the fundamental principles of Christianity, creating universities and hospitals, caring for the poor and sick, developing the Christian understanding of human dignity, improving the world as they found it, with hearts and minds set on God and the truth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Our task today
Recently, I attended a catechetical conference at Franciscan University and heard Dr. Petroc Willey proclaim the quote with which I began this column.
He suggested that the task of monasticism in the age of St. Benedict is in fact our task today, as Catholics living in the West in the 21st century.
As we witness the growth of a radical secularity, an increased anti-Christianity and anti-Catholicism, the erosion of moral values, the challenges of marriage and family, and the embrace of a flawed human anthropology, we may feel like those who witnessed the collapse of the Roman Empire.
Our culture, country, and world as we have understood and experienced them are profoundly changing. Everything can seem to be falling apart.
This critical hour demands of us the same fundamental response, which St. Benedict and his followers embraced.
Like them, Christ calls us to quietly and courageously rebuild culture and society by seeking holiness, strengthening marriages and families, catechizing the Faith to the young, living out the social teachings of the Church, caring for the poor and vulnerable, and rebuilding a civilization of life and love.
We can either wring our hands in fear and anxiety at the state of the world, or we can open our hands to welcome the opportunities which lie before us, working to deepen the Kingdom of God in our midst.
We need to be apostles, saints, and prophets, giving our lives and our hearts to the great task of living out the Gospel of Jesus Christ.