With
all his being the monk must try not to wander away from God through infidelity,
and fall back into the condition of hardness of heart out of which God’s grace
had brought him. He must take very
seriously his new identity as servant of
God, put in charge of a particular work within Christ’s household. His humble, obedient service out of love must
embody the selfless goodness of the physically absent Master, who could return
at any moment. The practice of vigilance is, therefore, essential to a
person who is not living for himself or by his own tastes and criteria, but
whose joy and fulfillment in life consist in being faithful to the will of the One
who has done so much for him, the Lord who has trusted him to care for what is
most precious to God’s Heart. The monk
owes such service and vigilance not only to the Lord himself, but to the Lord’s
Bride, the Church. The monk keeps vigil
both figuratively and literally, says John Paul II, because for him “eschatological expectation becomes mission, so that the Kingdom may become ever more fully established
here and now” (Vita consecrata, 27). The monk who shuns the practice of
vigilance does so at his own peril. He
runs the risk of turning in upon himself and becoming enslaved to desires that
are far below the delight God promises.
But the vigilant monk again echoes Isaiah: My soul yearns for you in the night, my spirit within me
earnestly seeks you (26:9). This is what a loving heart
is always doing: searching for the Beloved in the night.
St. Benedict wishes that his monks should keep protracted vigil
during the hours of the night, while the rest of the world sleeps. It is as if an essential part of the monk’s calling—something
he owes both the Church and the world—is this generous watchfulness in
prayer. His sluggish lower nature may
not at all like it, but he is appointed to act as a link of love between the
slumbering world and the ever-wakeful tenderness of God. The monk is called to be the willing vehicle
for God’s tender mercy traveling through the darkness. Could it be that my fidelity in keeping vigil
in the night here at Spencer could, by virtue of the circulation of graces in
the Mystical Body of Christ, bring relief from terror to one little girl in
Syria or Iraq tonight? Our faith tells
me it’s in my power to have this effect, or rather in the power of Christ who
dwells within me. In this aspect of monastic
life, the prayer of waiting without idols
is typical. Christ is experienced as the
ever-present Teacher who through lectio, fraternal
relationships, and in the depths of the heart instructs the monk and draws him
ever more closely to his own Heart.
Photograph by Brother Brian. Reflection by Father Simeon
