Kansas Monks Newsletter May 2024

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Dear Friends,

I write this freshly back from our eleventh Abbot’s Table, celebrated in Overland Park but with satellite events here in Atchison, Denver, and St. Louis. A lot of work goes into preparing the event, as you can imagine. But it is a real blessing to be able to share the life of St. Benedict’s Abbey with all of you.

This year we honored two incredible honorees, Vicki and Syl Schieber and the Sisters of Life, with our Lumen Vitae award. Both honorees have done pioneering work in support of human dignity and have powerful stories about the impact of their mission. While it was not planned, we took it as an affirmation of our decision for this year’s honorees that the Vatican just released a declaration about the importance of human dignity for the Church. Called Dignitas Infinita, the document gives a wonderful overview of how God has created humankind with an immeasurable dignity as well as a survey of key areas in which this dignity is under attack in our society today.

The Schiebers tragically lost their daughter, Shannon, in 1998 when she was murdered by a serial rapist. It’s the kind of crime that is impossible to comprehend. Most of us can’t imagine forgiving the perpetrator, much more advocating to save his life. Yet this is what the Schiebers did.

Syl tells the powerful story of how, in the aftermath, he and Vicky went to Mass and he wrestled with the line in the Lord’s Prayer: “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” This set the Schiebers on a journey to practice forgiving their daughter’s murderer and this meant for them opposing the death penalty. Their advocacy against

the death penalty has been a profound witness to the sanctity of human life and to the centrality of forgiveness and mercy for Catholics.

The Sisters of Life began in 1991 in response to Cardinal John O’Connor’s request for a religious community that sought to protect the sacredness of human life, especially that of the most vulnerable. The sisters work with pregnant women, advocate against abortion, and help those facing the end of their life.

We were greatly blessed by hearing their testimony. I encourage you to go to our YouTube channel and watch their acceptance speeches. Their stories and witness will be of great encouragement. And I encourage you also to read the new document from the Vatican on human dignity. Let us pray for all those who work to protect the sacredness of human life and do what we can to promote a culture of life in our homes and communities.

In Christ,

Abbot James R. Albers, O.S.B.

IN THIS ISSUE

Shakespeare Pt. 4

By Br. Jean-Marie Hogan, O.S.B.

“Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale?” (Sir Toby, Twelfth Night II.3)

Inthis scene, Malvolio the steward has just caught Toby and his drinking buddies making a racket late at night. He informs Toby in no uncertain terms that unless he is able to leave off his drunken revels, he had best seek lodging elsewhere.

Sir Toby’s response is a piercing analysis of Malvolio’s character. Malvolio’s strength lies in his ability to do things by the book. Perhaps this is why Olivia’s father placed him in charge of the household: he is a man who can be counted on. At the same time, Malvolio wants everyone to play by the rules. He is hell-bent on being a virtuous man—which, to his mind, means no fun for anyone. Maria’s accusation that he is “a kind of Puritan” is not far from the mark.

In the Rule, St. Benedict expects his monks to practice abstinence from food and drink during the season of Lent. (See chapter 49, “The Observance of Lent.”) It might seem on first glance as though Benedict is a bit

of a puritan, too. No one is allowed to eat, drink, talk, or laugh; everyone had better be serious!

I think the essential difference between Malvolio and St. Benedict lies in the reason for their proposals. For Benedict, our Lenten offering is meant to be made “with the joy of the Holy Spirit” (RB 49.6, quoting I Thess 1:6).

It is not that food, drink, or sleep are bad things—quite the contrary; rather, they are worth giving up, because we are waiting for the Bridegroom to return (cf. Mk 2:20). In the words of G.K. Chesterton, it is “better to fast for joy than feast for misery” (Ballad of the White Horse).

In my own experience in the monastery, I find that fasting creates a kind of empty space where I can invite Christ to meet me. When I am not busy filling my body (or my attention, for that matter), I can become more attuned to what He wants to give me. In this regard, I find it helpful to think about fasting as something more expansive than just abstaining from food. I can fast from entertainment, from noise, from “needless talking and idle jesting” (RB 49.7). Silence is a kind of auditory fasting, and fasting (in the usual sense) is a kind of culinary silence. This silence enables me to listen to the Word with greater attention.

The Deeper Meaning of the Solar Eclipse

By Fr. Matthew Habiger, O.S.B.

The solar eclipse of 8 April 2024 has come and gone. People traveled from all over the country to the locations where this event could best be viewed. We were treated to a rare view of the corona of the sun, while the earth was momentarily darkened by the shadow of the moon as it passed between us and the sun. So what is the significance of all this?

The solar eclipse means one thing to astronomers, another to mankind at large. To the astronomers it means another rare opportunity to view the surface of the sun, called the corona, and see events that cannot be seen when the full brilliance of the sun is in effect. During the eclipse we can see more of the activities occurring on the surface of the sun.

The great lights, colors, and fissures coming from the sun’s surface tell us much about the chemical makeup of this star, called the sun. And what we learn about this star can be applied to the billions of other stars in our galaxy, called the Milky Way. This star, the sun, is the center of our solar system, the center of gravity for all the planets revolving around it, the matrix from which all the 9 planets emerged, and the source of light and energy upon which all forms of life depend.

Our capacity for knowing, our insatiable hunger for the truth, for seeing things as they really are, is at work here. But we can’t stop with the material aspects of this search for truth.

The solar eclipse tells us much more than these observable facts. When we reflect upon them, these observable facts point us to deeper, and more important, realities.

In a typical day we are all caught up in contemporary events. We live in our own little world. Then comes an unusual event, like a total solar eclipse. Now we are forced out of our little worlds, and now we must see the bigger picture. We marvel that we are part of this immense universe. And we marvel at our ability to reflect upon it, and to see how we fit into the picture.

So, we are not a world unto ourselves. We are part of something much greater than what we read in the

newspapers and view on television and the internet. We are part of the solar system, a system of nine planets revolving around the sun. The earth makes a complete rotation on its axis every 24 hours, giving us the effect of night and day. The earth orbits around the sun in a year’s time, which also produces the four seasons.

We live on a “privileged planet,” which has so many advantages over all the other planets that we know of. There is life, in such a great variety of species here, culminating in human beings who are capable of self-consciousness, reason, volition, and friendships. In the crust of the earth there are all of the 118 elements found in the periodic table. This is highly remarkable, since the vast universe is composed primarily of hydrogen (75%) and of helium (23%). All the other elements, or chemicals, were forged in the centers of stars, where hydrogen and helium were subjected to immense pressures of heat, gravity and atomic fusion. When old stars died and exploded as supernovas, they released these combinations of elements into the surrounding space, which became a nebula cosmic soup from which are formed new stars, which in turn produced new planets in their solar systems.

In the crust of the earth we find all of the elements of the periodic table, many of which are absolutely necessary for any form of a life cell. Very near the earth’s surface we find huge reserves of coal, crude oil, and iron ore. We find oceans and rivers, and fertile fields. We find an atmosphere that hugs the planet, where clouds carry moisture to the continents, circulate oxygen and carbon, while protecting us from harmful rays of the sun. All forms of life, as we know it, require a delicate balance among all these factors. We did not produce, or design, them; we merely discovered them and learned how to use them correctly.

Because of the earth’s atmosphere, we are able to observe much of the rest of the universe. We see its unfathomable immensity. We see that the nearest star to us, Alpha Centauri, is 4.2 light years away from us. We see that in our galaxy of the Milky Way, it takes light 100,000 years to travel from one end to the other. And we realize that all the stars with their solar systems rotate around the center of the galaxy, which takes some 250 million years for one rotation.

And our galaxy, the Milky Way, is only one among 100 billion other galaxies.

This is the universe you and I live in for a brief span of time. We are here for only 70-80 years, then we must leave. We can’t stay. Eventually we must come to grips with some major questions: Why is there a universe? Why are we here? What is this life all about? What are we to accomplish during our lifetimes? If the universe had a beginning, 14 billion years ago, then who created it out of nothing, and who gave it its laws of nature and such exquisite designs? What is His purpose in creating us?

Our human nature is such that we abhor the idea that we will not live forever. We have the capacity to know, to see things are they really are. We shun false information, distorted facts, and we fight prejudices. We search for meaning and purpose in life. We want to know the truth, matters as they really are. We know that the human person is the summit of all the material creation that we have experienced. And we know that these truths are self-evident: “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

If these are undeniable, indisputable, realities, then they must affect our ways of thinking and acting. We need to be in a relationship with the Creator of the universe, and the Designer of our human nature. If He has taken the trouble to reveal Himself and His plan for us, then we need to take them seriously. We need to use our minds to come to as clear an understanding of God, ourselves, and the world we live in, as we can. And with that understanding, we need to apply our talents and efforts to building a just society that respects the human dignity of every person. Our life on this planet is short, and the solar system itself will eventually die. But the immaterial soul that God created, when each of us was conceived, will endure forever. Our challenge is to realize our great calling, our destiny.

Rowan Williams, Passions of the Soul (London: Bloomsbury, 2024)

By Dr. James R. A. Merrick

Passions of the Soul is a publication of retreat addresses given in 2018 to Holy Cross Convent, an Anglican Benedictine community in Leicestershire. Written by Rowan Williams, the former Anglican Archbishop of Canterbury and, until recently, Master of Magdalene College, University of Cambridge, the book refreshes and re-proposes to a modern, post-Christian audience the ancient eastern monastic discipline of apathy.

Apathy mustn’t be misunderstood. It is not numbness to the external world. It is not a matter of ignoring or suppressing pain, sorrow, or suffering. Rather, apathy is best understood as “freedom from passion.”

Passion should be understood not as excitement or bare desire, but as a kind of spiritual unrest or agitation. The passions are those stirrings or inclinations of the soul that urge us to see and take hold of the world selfishly. The core problem with passion, says Williams, is a rejection of dependency upon God. Passion is the delusory desire to overcome this dependency by filling the self with material or social gains rather than God. Apathy, then, is the overcoming of the passions by the joyful acceptance of oneself and of all things as creations of God.

After this basic orientation to apathy and passion, the book divides into two parts. The first examines the eight passions identified by Evagrius Ponticus, a fourth century monk. These are: (1) gluttony; (2) lust; (3) avarice; (4) wrath; (5) despair; (6) acedia; (7) envy; and (8) pride. Behind each of these passions, Williams is careful to observe, is not an “evil impulse” so much as an exaggeration or corruption of a natural inclination. Again, the problem is that a material or social good is being substituted for a relationship with God or is being sought as a way to secure one’s independence from God.

Williams contrasts the life of passion with the life

of beatitude outlined by Jesus in His Sermon on the Mount recorded in the fifth chapter of the Gospel of Matthew. To summarize his schema: pride is overcome by poverty of spirit, acedia by mourning, wrath by meekness, gluttony by a hunger for justice, avarice by being merciful, lust by purity of heart, envy by peacemaking, and despair by being persecuted for righteousness’ sake. By way of summary, if the passions cause a person to attach to reality selfishly, the beatitudes prompt a person to accept reality as a gift, as something that should be received not controlled or pressed into service of the self.

The second part of the book consists of two essays that were not part of the original retreat but were

published in two edited volumes on Christian spirituality. They are much more theologically explicit than the chapters that comprise the first part which tend to be more generic in their language. The first essay seeks to show that Christ is the exemplar of beatitude because He is the embodiment of sonship to the Father. Jesus’ human life is but the translation into human history of the eternal relationship of His relationship to the Father through the Holy Spirit. Consequently, when human passion is transformed into beatitude, the Christian life takes the form of nuptial union with God.

The second essay looks at how early Christian reflection on the passions was socially revolutionary. A major theme is that because early monastic reflection on the passions tended to be skeptical of the human tendency to control, it also tended to be more egalitarian and skeptical of hierarchical authority.

Passions of the Soul is best understood as an exercise in re-thinking the core aspects of the eastern monastic tradition to make them more accessible or relatable to modern people. As one can expect from Williams, there are insights that reward reflection. Casting apathy as an anticipation of the resurrection, for example, helps us to see that it is not bodily desires as such that are

the problem but our spiritual understanding of these bodily desires. Likewise, it helps us see that apathy is about joy and freedom, not sorrow and suppression.

It wouldn’t be unfair to say our society is abounding in passion, and, if Williams is right that passion is all about rejecting reality as it is and treating it according to selfish desire, then it’s easy to see why the increase in passion has corresponded with the increase of unreality. Here Williams’ book could have used more development.

As with his other works, Williams makes a rhetorical choice in Passions of the Soul to deploy a more generic conceptuality and relegate the Church’s theological language to a secondary and often illustrative role. In other words, he speaks of egoism more so than sin or openness to reality more so than divine grace.

This may make these ancient ideas seem fresher and more appealing to the modern ear. And it does tend to shift the gravity or drama of Christianity from God’s historic intervention to the drama of personal breakthrough or social revolution. But it seems to me that something significant is lost and Williams’ analysis is severely stifled and stunted.

On the one hand, his treatment of the passions

and beatitudes becomes both redundant and overly generic. The conceptual grammar chosen by Williams seems so underdetermined and vague as to be vacuous at times. As one progresses through the book, his analysis of each passion starts to sound the same. Pride, for example, is defined as “a failure to accept dependence gratefully and gracefully” (p. 23) while avarice is described as “a longing for control – control over others, control over one’s circumstances…control over one’s image” (p. 48).

It seems to me that such a description of avarice, apart from sounding a lot like an extension of what was described as pride, loses sight of how much the passion of avarice is attached to money or things. There is a real enticement or lust for possessions and wealth that characterizes the passion of avarice. And we just don’t seem to be able to get that specific with Williams’ more generic, psychological language.

Likewise, the beatitudes blur together as variations on the theme of accepting the giftedness of life and being open to reality. I confess to being profoundly disappointed when “purity of heart,” for example, was rendered as “a desire not to stop desiring, a desire to be kept open to truth and loveliness, wherever it may be” (p. 61).

I can’t help but think that these descriptions fall rather short of the kind of analysis one finds in Evagrius or John Cassian. It seems to me that it is their confidence in the language of Scripture and Tradition that enables them to probe more deeply both into the human heart and into the divine mystery. It is a curious

Passion should be understood not as excitement or bare desire, but as a kind of spiritual unrest or agitation. The passions are those stirrings or inclinations of the soul that urge us to see and take hold of the world selfishly.

choice that Williams prefers what seems to be a weaker, less precise conceptuality. The classical theological tradition seems much more robust and incisive.

This brings me to the second way in which Williams’ analysis is stifled. Because he tends to shy away from classical theological conceptuality in favor of a more secular or neutral vocabulary, his rendering of the theological dimensions of human action is either too ambiguous or, at times, theologically problematic. Nowhere is this better seen than in his definition of sin: “Sin costs us; it costs us our human naturalness; it freezes up our liberty to say yes to what we are most deeply, naturally, oriented to” (p. 14). This is fine as far as it goes, I suppose. But by not going far enough, it reduces “sin” or something like “failure.” By contrast, in the Christian tradition, sin is not just a failure to be fully human, but above all a failure to do justice to God. Sin is defiance or offence against God. And sin doesn’t just lead to alienation from our nature, but alienation from God.

Alongside this, there does seem to be a general neglect in this book of the way in which passion itself is concupiscence, that is, the weakness of the soul caused by alienation from God. In other words, we are subject to passion precisely because we are no longer filled by God’s presence. Passion moves us to substitute for God the things of this world. By not paying attention to the theological dimension of passion, Williams leaves the reader with the impression that the passions are something of a consequence of human finitude rather than human fallenness.

This little book is timely as our culture could sure use some the diagnostic tools of the monastic tradition and a recovery of apathy. Readers entirely unfamiliar with this tradition can profit from Williams’ analysis, keeping in mind the issues just noted. But those looking to go deeper into these areas really ought to bite the bullet and read John Cassian’s Institutes.

Living the Litu rgy

Commentary on the Liturgical Year

By Dr. James R. A. Merrick

5 MAY – 6TH SUNDAY OF EASTER

In the first reading, taken from Acts chapter 10, we see the growing reverence for St. Peter in the early Church. We read that Cornelius fell at Peter’s feet and paid him homage. The notion that the early Church was egalitarian and the emergence of the hierarchy and papacy occurred much later doesn’t fit the historical details even in the New Testament. It is indeed significant that this moment of inclusion of the Gentiles occurs as St. Peter is preaching.

Turning to the Gospel, Jesus commands His Apostles to remain in His love and to love one another with His love. Too often, passages about love get diluted

down into a variation of the view of love our culture has held since the 1960s. Love is often understood as therapeutic. To love someone means to affirm them, to support them, to accept them as they are, and to encourage their own personal identity and pursuit of happiness.

Jesus tells us to love with His love, and in this way He challenges us to go beyond worldly or culturally popular love. As the Gospel of John makes clear, the love with which Jesus loves is the love that He eternally has for the Father. Our Lord came to us because He loved the Father and the Father loved the world and wanted to save it (see John 3:16).

As the Scriptures make plain, the Father’s love for the world is not a mere admiration or gratitude for the world, but a fatherly desire to save the world from sin and have the world reconciled to Himself. The love with which Christ calls us to love others is a love that has its goal in their salvation and sanctification. To love someone with the love of Christ means to love the will of the Father for that person, not to love the lifestyle and choices of that person. Only if we love the will of the Father like Christ will we be able to truly love others with the love Jesus enjoins upon us.

12 MAY – ASCENSION OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST

One of the interesting features of the first reading, again from the Acts of the Apostles, is the way it describes Jesus meeting with His Apostles. Our English translate the Greek verb as “they had gathered together.” In fact the verb literally means “while taking/ eating salt with them.” The oddity of Jesus and His Apostles literally sitting down and eating salt together is why modern translations have opted for the more generic phrase “gathered together.”

While such a translation may be easier for the modern reader to understand, it actually obscures the

meaning of the text. Salt was the primary preservative in the ancient world and so a symbol of life, health, and strength. For this reason, when the biblical text discusses a covenant God made with His people, it often describes it as a “covenant of salt.” A great example of this is the reference to the covenant with David in 2 Chronicles: “the Lord God of Israel gave the kingship over Israel for ever to David and his sons by a covenant of salt” (13:5).

Thus, when the Apostles met with the resurrected

Lord as described in the first reading, they were likely eating the Eucharist. The Eucharist is the means by which we participate in our Lord’s eternal life.

What we see in this first reading is that while Jesus ascends into heaven, He has not left us without access to His eternal, salvific life. He has left us with the Eucharist, the “salt” that will preserve us to the end. The Eucharist is the principal way we encounter the life of the risen and ascended Lord and receive His life-giving power.

Gustave Doré, 1879, L’Ascension, Oil on Canvas

19

MAY – PENTECOST SUNDAY

One of the promises the prophets made was that when the Messiah came, God would give His Spirit to His people and He would write His Law on their hearts. This promise is fulfilled at Pentecost.

In the Old Testament, the Feast of Pentecost celebrated the giving of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai. It was an event marked by a storm of wind and fire. Thus it is that when the Apostles were gathered in the Upper Room celebrating Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descended upon them with a rush of wind and in tongues of fire. The gift of the Holy Spirit, then, is the perfection of the gift of the Law to Moses.

Jesus tells us that the Holy Spirit is like our Counselor. The Holy Spirit is at once a prosecuting and defense attorney in our lives. On the one hand, Jesus as well as St. Paul tells us the Holy Spirit will convict us of our sin (see John 16:8). The Holy Spirit will tell us about the ways in which we fail to live up to the Law of God and the teachings of Our Lord. On the other hand, the Holy Spirit will defend us against the accusers. When the Devil tempts us to despair over our sin or the world persecutes us for our faith, the Spirit will remind us that we are the Lord’s and He will give us the words to say in reply.

Listening to the Spirit and walking according to His guidance is the key to the Christian life. The same Spirit who preserves the Church from error and who consecrates the Eucharistic bread and wine lives inside of all the faithful who are in a state of grace.

But how often do we think about the Spirit in our lives? How often do we pray to Him and beg His help? Are we seeking to walk every moment following the Spirit’s lead? On this Pentecost, let us give thanks for the gift of the Holy Spirit and commit ourselves to living every more intentionally according to His gentle prompting.

26 MAY – TRINITY SUNDAY

“All power in heaven and earth has been given to me, go therefore into all nations…” This is the pivotal line of the Gospel reading for today’s solemnity. It comes from the so-called “Great Commission” at the end of St. Matthew’s Gospel.

In a sense, this passage reveals the political dimensions of Christian evangelization. Certainly, in the ancient world, religion was thoroughly political. People believed that it was their gods who protected them and ensured their welfare. For Christians to enter into another nation and proclaim Jesus Christ as true God and Lord would be seditious. This is why the Lord tells His Apostles that He has all the power of heaven and earth to assure them that no other king or ruler has any power over them.

It is through the apostolic ministry that the power of the Triune God over the world is made manifest. St. Paul has some of the most significant remarks about the role of the Church in bringing the powers of this world under the authority of Christ. In the opening chapter of his letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul tells us that God’s power was made known when He “raised Christ from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked…” (Eph. 1:20-21). In the third chapter, he tells his readers that God’s plan is to make known His power and wisdom to the rulers and authorities of this world through the Church (Ephesians 3:10).

The power of God that the Church must show to the world is the power of the sacraments. It is the sacraments, not military might or public policy, that will truly transform the world into the Kingdom of God. As Christians, then, we should concentrate our political efforts not so much on who to vote for or what organizations or policies to support but on promoting the glory and grace of the sacraments. We should endeavor to receive them worthily and see that they are honored rather than taken for granted in our parishes. 

Kansas Monks

EDITORIAL TEAM

Editor-in-Chief - Abbot James Albers, O.S.B.

Managing Editor - Dr. James R. A. Merrick

Art Director - Philip J. Smaldone

Graphic Designer - Anya Valladares

Advisor - Fr. Matthew Habiger, O.S.B.

Advisor - Seth Galemore

Advisor - Garrick Lambert

Advisor - Josh Harden

Advisor - Dwight Stephenson

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