Humility…6 – 11 August 2017

The 9^th step of humility, in Benedict’s own words, is that we control our tongues and remain silent.  And I don’t have the courage to give you the 10^th step in Benedict’s words, because I would have to spend the rest of the morning defending him – Joan Chittister renders it better as… Never ridicule anyone or anything.

Control our tongues…  Humility understands that a quieter world will tend to be a wiser world, a quieter church might understand itself and other things better.  It is simply not necessary to voice every thought or to respond out loud to every event, or statement we hear, or stimulus we receive.  Listening has priority over telling.   Two desert stories: 

Abba Theophilus the archbishop came to Scetis one day.  The brethren who were assembled said to Abba Pambo, “Say something to the archbishop so that he may be edified.”  The old man said to them, “If he is not edified by my silence, he will not be edified by my speech.”

Abba Macarius the Great said to the brothers at Scetis when he dismissed the assembly, “Flee, my brothers!”  One of them asked him, “Where could we flee beyond this desert?”  Macarius put his finger to his lips and said, “Flee this” – and he went into his cell, shut the door and sat down.

The words listen and silent, you may have noticed, are spelt with the same letters, anagrams of each other.  Of course we enjoy lively conversation, especially if it is thoughtful and ordered, and if listening is practised (and interrupting is not) – but not, it seems to me, when it is not much more than occupational therapy for the chattering cabal, swapping what happened to me and what she said and what I said and how I felt, and you’ll never guess...   The contemplative’s discipline of humility – and humility is our subject -- simply thrives on silence and space, and on simplicity.  Esther de Waal, one of our contemporary teachers, wrote some time ago about the grace of entering a room.  We pause at the threshold, take time to sense the atmosphere, observe and listen, before saying anything much.  She had a friend whose normal practice was to make an entrance, loudly, up-front, and cutting diametrically through whatever may have been happening there before she/he arrived. 

Then Benedict instructs us about ridicule.  We do need to be clear about this.  Benedict was not against humour or laughter -- the Rule of St Benedict contains some lovely humour.  The humourless monk was a problem in the monastery.  But Benedict forbids ridicule.  Ridicule entails humiliation.  Gentle and witty criticism of people is not the problem here.  The problem is a form of bullying, attacking someone’s dignity and decency, shaming or degrading – and our censorious self-righteous society does it all the time.  Studied humiliation was a recognised procedure at Auckland Grammar in my day.  It sickened me then, it sickens me now.  Ridicule is a largely unquestioned weapon in our culture, even more so in election year.  It is intended to wound, to disable.  It is a weapon unavailable to disciples of Christ.  We learn other ways to respond.