Hmm, Br. Jr, I didn’t see it from that perspective (maybe because I am not religious
) I find it scary, in that people are trying to fit this religious community into an American style of thinking. While most of the religious may indeed be American, the Rule they live by and the tradition they follow is definitely not American (It is Catholic). Equating a nice, large Church and chapel to “wealthy” religious is a little unnerving to me. Maybe because I went to college in a monastic community, the Church and worship spaces do nothing in enhance the “wealth” or status of the individuals, but rather God. The religious themselves live in small sparse quarters, with few possessions.
I wonder if it comes from a misunderstanding of the vow of poverty, and how poverty works in Christian/Catholic thought/experience.
You make some very good points here. I made the same points before. The living quarters of the monks are usually spartan.
But from the perspective of a religious, this is rather daunting to say the least. The last thing that we want is to go back to the days when religious had to adapt and conform to the secular Catholic demands.
First of all, it’s not doable. You have as many demands as you have individuals. Everyone has an idea and how many ideas can you please at one time.
Secondly, the religious life has roots that go way back. As you say, it’s not always American. There certainly are American religious communities with statutes that were written for Americans and by Americans. But the great orders, as they are called, do not follow these. We follow rules and statutes that go back hundreds of years or even two thousand, such as the Carmelite Friars (not the same as the monks). These customs are not going to fit neatly into our American backdrop. The American Catholic has to accommodate, both the lay person living on the outside looking in and the person who is entering.
Third, what I’m hearing the monks say is that they want to live the life that St. Teresa of Avila lived. That means that they owe their allegiance to her, not to us. We must respect that.
I have lived through this conflict and it’s very unpleasant. In the 1980s the Franciscan men were given permission to reorganize in order to follow the Rule of St. Francis more closely. Long story made short, different Franciscan communities of men have emerged from within the larger community (i.e. Franciscans of the Renewal, Franciscans of the Immaculate, Franciscan Brothers of Life, Franciscans of Peace, Franciscans of the Eucharist, Franciscans of the Eternal Word and several others).
A group of us went to live in a very poor neighborhood. We rented the back porch of a lady’s house. It was an enclosed porch. Six of us lived on this porch. It was our dining room, chapel, dormitory, rec room, library, etc. The neighbors complained to the bishop because we were not involved in the local parish. Instead, we walked the streets all day long. Some of us, such as me, had come from teaching theology at the seminary, serving as pastors, confessors, teachers and one was a wonderful cook. Suddenly, there were these Doctors of Theology, Masters of Divinity, Doctor of Education and professional chef, roaming the streets and begging for food.
It took a while to convince people that we were obeying St. Francis. It finally took a very harsh letter from the bishop telling the local Catholics to back-off and admonishing them that neither he nor they had the authority to trump the vision of the founder.
Such interference makes life very difficult for everyone, because people get angry over things that they should just leave alone. They don’t affect our daily lives. The interior life of a religious community is disturbed when they have neighbors complaining and making demands on them. That’s not why you enter a mendicant or monastic order. These orders are not meant to have open access for everyone around them. They just want to be left alone to do what God calls them to do. The only thing that they ask from the people is for their prayers and their financial support. Their presence gives a lot more than they receive. You can’t put a price on grace.
Yesterday, I went to a public school in the inner city. It’s a very poor school. I walked in wearing the medieval Franciscan habit that my community wears. It’s not the modern long habit. It’s the ancient habit, just below the knees, with a chord and a cowl. I was invited to a health fair. I knew that they would be passing out condoms and talking safe sex at the different display tables. The principal told me that I could not mention religion. I agreed to go.
I set up my little table with flyers and a poster board about life, abortion, the effects of contraception and post abortion healing. Since I was not allowed to say anything about religion, I did not have a single religious item or book on display. It was just me and my poster and pamphlets. I took a clicker with me. I wanted to count how many kids would come to my table. I clicked 123 kids. The great thing was the five kids, independently, recognized the Franciscan habit. They had seen pictures in history books. They proceeded to share the little knowledge that they have about Franciscan “monks” with their peers who were nearby. Unfortunately, they got the monk part wrong . . . we’re not monks. But that’s ok. It’s not the fault of monks that they are not Franciscans.
There moral of the story . . . grace can work in very strange places and in very unexpected ways.
Fraternally,
Br. JR, OSF
