Longing for God

An introduction to the Fifth Kind of Monk

Dearest reader, do you long for God and a deep spiritual life? Do you want to share your life with others who love you and bring out the best in you—sometimes by calling you on the worst in you and inviting you to grow? Do you want to do good and meaningful work that creates a more just and equitable world society even when it seems an impossible task?

If your answers are yes, dear reader, you have met the basic requirements for the monastic life as outlined by St. Benedict in his 6th century Rule of Life for monks. In Chapter 58, “The Procedure for Receiving Members,” Benedict instructs that the concern must be whether the novice monk truly seeks God and shows eagerness for the Opus Dei (spiritual life), for obedience (mutual listening, the basis for healthy community), and for trials (which inevitably come when one works for a more just world).

Drawn to God and a holy life himself, Benedict sought to escape the corruption, greed, and immorality of ancient Rome, which is where he began his life. Like men and women before him who abandoned civilization for the solitude and harsh life of the Egyptian and Syrian deserts in their search for meaning and holiness, Benedict left Rome and took up residence in a cave in Subiaco.

Holiness has an irresistible aroma to those who truly desire it. And as Benedict grew in wisdom and holiness, he found that he was no longer alone in his cave, that others wanting what he had followed his holy scent. Their life was one of prayer, fasting, reflection, and service—albeit initially individual. Then as nature does naturally, order developed from chaos and the deserts of the ancient world became home to communities of monks. Benedict was one of many who wrote rules looking to organize those monastic communities, borrowing from and building on previous rules. Benedict’s Rule, though, embodied a new level of wisdom and a deeper understanding of human psychology than previous rules. His directives were egalitarian and balanced with emphasis on authentic human development and his care and concern for the weak, the elderly, the sick, and the poor were reflective of the stereotypical compassionate nature of women, as contrasted with the all-to-familiar warrior male model.

Unfortunately, history has done a good job of erasing the thinking and writing of women themselves, so we really don’t know a great deal about how women may have organized their own monastic lives.

And so 1,500 years further down the road we stand facing the horizon wondering how to live into our own deep longings. Our world is no longer one of predetermined options, of traditional lifetime careers, of cookie-cutter worldviews. Today’s larger monasteries, including the one that published this magazine, have long carried the Benedictine monastic tradition forward but are now enroute to an unknown future as perpetually professed (vowed) monks, a.k.a. those living the monastic lifestyle we have known for centuries, decrease in number. Maintaining what has been has become a challenge to what is becoming. We find it difficult to see beyond the curve in the road even when we know we are swimming in a sea of possibility.

The Fifth Kind of Monk

In the very first chapter of his Rule, “The Kinds of Monks,” Benedict identifies four kinds of monks, two of which he considers detestable for their “character as soft as lead” and aimlessness. A third is the hermit, a valid but rare kind of monk who eschews community for the solitary life.

The monk Benedict saw as having potential for holiness, “the strong kind,” was the cenobite, “those who belong to a monastery, where they serve under a rule and a prioress.” In the remaining 72 chapters of his Rule, he organizes the life of this kind of monk.

I want to propose that there exists a Fifth Kind of Monk, a monk unknown in Benedict’s 6th century world.

Ideas do not materialize out of thin air. Ideas emerge after decades—or even centuries—of questioning, experience, thinking, or suffering reach a sudden apex of understanding and human consciousness suddenly slings the idea out into the world. In other words, the idea of the Fifth Kind of Monk is not new. It has simply revealed itself.

The popularity of “new monasticism” in contemporary spiritual jargon gives credence to the ongoing relevance of Benedictine spirituality and the appeal of community and good works today. The question is, is it really about a new monasticism or is it more accurately a matter of recognizing a new kind of monk grounded in timeless monastic principles living differently in a 21st century world?