If the Master and Benedict, following Cassian, recognize the legitimacy of anachoresis this is precisely because they represent cenobitic society as an educative enterprise rather than as a community of brothers living together a life which has value in and for itself. If they, like other monastic legislators, had taken as their model the primitive Church, where the multitude of believers had but one heart and one soul, they would scarcely have allowed an exodus to the desert which might seem to assail this communion in charity. There is scarcely any place for eremitism when the union of hearts appears as the supreme value. On the contrary, nothing prevents one from leaving a school, if it is certain that one has exhausted its educative resources and can lead a more difficult combat in the wilderness.
Adalbert de Vogüé. The Rule of Saint Benedict. A Doctrinal and Spiritual Commentary. Kalamazoo, Michigan; Cistercian Publications, 1983. 23.
Having considered the monastery’s relationship to the broader Church, Father de Vogüé turns his attention to the relationship between the monastery and the solitary life. He argues that, following Cassian, the Master and Saint Benedict see the monastic community in what could ultimately be thought rather functionalist terms as a preparation for solitude. While solitary life requires a thorough formation in the coenobium, the validity of eremitical life makes the monastery a school for eremitism. Moreover, the relationships in this school are primarily between a Master and disciples rather than between brothers in community.
The Christian community, either ecclesial or monastic, appears in the Master as an educative institution, where the relationship of disciples to master means almost everything and the relations of the disciples to one another means almost nothing. The aim of this institution is to lead to eternal life each of the persons entrusted to it. There is scarcely any building here below of a house of brothers where it is ‘good and pleasant to dwell together’. (23)
In contrast to Saint Basil, Saint Augustine and the rule of the Four Fathers, the Master and Saint Benedict do not begin with scriptural references to brothers living in unity (Ps 132) or the ideal community of the first Christians (Acts 2). Instead, the aspiring monk is addressed as an individual. De Vogüé concludes:
Our author was absorbed by his preoccupation with individual salvation, and could not give much attention to the communitarian dimension of christian prayer and life. If he firmly resolved to insert the neophyte and the new monk into a social framework, it was less to make him experience the riches and joys of a brotherly communion than to subject him to a sure guide, an authentic ‘teacher’. His monastic society was less a community than a school, and the school’s biblical foundation was found, not in the sweet words of the psalmist about the unanimity and joy of dwelling together or in the example of concord given by the Church of Jerusalem, but simply in the saying of Christ: ‘Enter my school, learn of me’. (25)
***
I must admit to a little disquiet at this perspective, especially as it applies to the Rule of Saint Benedict, although for now I shall suspend judgement and see how the theme develops in the rest of the book. Perhaps I have been more formed by a Cistercian reading of the Rule than I realised! And it is certainly the case that there is a solitude-community antinomy that seems to run through all forms of monasticism and that this perhaps should not be easily resolved. I suppose that I’m also reacting against the background of my reading of Being as Communion, and wondering about de Vogüé’s use of the contrast between individual and institution and whether this represents something significant ecclesiologically. But these are just less than half-baked thoughts that I need to work out more!
A vow of conversation 
April 4, 2009 at 8:04 pm
What I found most interesting about this part of the book was that, while Orthodox monasticism is often identified with the ‘Basilian’ tradition, and certainly Orthodox monastics are far more likely to be familiar with St Basil’s monastic writings than with those of St Benedict, in my experience (on Athos, for instance) modern Orthodox monasticism seems to line up more with St Benedict than with St Basil, as de Vogüé presents them. The emphasis seems to be very much on individual salvation and the authenticity and sureness of the guide and teacher, i.e., the elder or abbot. My extremely limited experience of modern Benedictine monasticism in the RC Church is precisely the opposite. Of course, this is just speculation, but part of the reason for this could be the close connection between coenobitism and eremitism on Athos, and the fact that most of the monasteries I visited were inhabited by brotherhoods whose elder had lived as an anchorite for much of his life. In this way, perhaps they were closer to the monasteries in the time of St Benedict himself than many Benedictine monasteries are.
April 5, 2009 at 6:06 pm
Ah, so Orthodox monasticism is Benedictine and Catholic monasticism is Basilian – just when I thought that I’d got my bearings and knew which side of the Tiber, or Bosphorus or whatever it is that I’m on!
More seriously, this raises all sorts of interesting questions that I still need to get clarity on – and makes me aware of my lack of background in some (many) areas, both East and West. I really would like to look at Saint Basil more closely, and would be interested to get more clarity on his influence in the East (and also in the West for that matter, e.g. Saint Bernard). I’ve also heard a couple of people saying recently that one should be careful of identifying Orthodox monasticism with Mt Athos – but that is what seems to grab the limelight: what are the other traditions? And I also wonder about the influence of Saint Isaac the Syrian on the recent Athonite revival.
And behind this are also questions of ecclesiology and the relationship of the monastery and the Church. When I used the word iconic in the title of the post, I realised that it was not a word that de Vogüé uses, but it reminded me of comments I’d heard by Orthodox monastics on the refectory as a sort of eschatological / iconic image. (I hope that I’m citing them correctly!) Now, the western monastic tradition also knows the tradition of the refectory as a sort of parallel to the church (also architecturally). But I don’t think that this comes across so clearly as I’ve heard it said in an Orthodox context. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that the “iconic” in some ways comes across stronger in an eastern context, despite the eremitical tendencies. After all the imagery of friendship, brotherhood and sharing of food was hardly absent in the Desert Fathers.
But I’m really thinking aloud here and really need to get much more clarity. And of course the two aspects are not mutually exclusive.