“Belief Perseverance,” San Bernardino, and Our Sinfulness (eCrozier #282)

On December 4, 2015, in Benedictine, grace, sin, Spiritual Disciplines, Violence, by bishopbenhase

According to new research reported on NPR, people who are experts in a particular field tend to become rigid and unwilling to consider alternative points of view related to their area of study. This is even true for people who aren’t really experts at all, but were helped to feel they were by the study researchers. They, too, became more rigid in their thinking about their field of “expertise” and became less likely to consider different points of view from their own. This is related to what’s known as “belief perseverance,“ the tendency to stay with a particular belief even though the body of evidence suggests one should reconsider. It’s also related to “confirmation bias” when one only interprets, favors, or recalls information that supports one’s already held conviction.

When I read such studies, I usually ask myself if such conclusions ring true from my own life experience and in my observation of how others seem to behave. In this case, boy does it ever. You see, I like to think of myself as an expert on many things. Maybe you do, too? Whether it’s Anglican theology, baseball game management, the deficiencies of mid-century modern architecture, or the tragedy of Mark Richt’s firing as the head football coach at UGA, I have an “expert” opinion. When I’m honest with myself, however, I have to admit I’m not an expert on any of those subjects. But part of me wants to believe I am. It seems we’re wired for such a tendency. I do have beliefs and views about each of the examples I listed. In some, I have more learned beliefs than in others, but truth demands my honesty. I’m not an expert in any.

And that brings us to yet another mass shooting this week, this time in San Bernadino. I can’t understand why we as a society are doing nothing substantial to curb the wide availability of assault-style automatic weapons, which are clearly designed to kill lots of people quickly. It’s seems obvious to me what needs to be done: we need to get all these assault weapons out of the hands of all but the law enforcement community. Is it my “belief perseverance” that leads me to that conclusion? Do I have “confirmation bias” in that I’m failing to seriously consider alternative points of view from my own when it comes to this kind of gun violence? I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. I try to listen to opposing views on this subject, but none of them makes any sense to me.

This is all part of our human sinfulness. We want to believe that our views and beliefs are superior to others; that our judgment on things is more insightful. I know my own tendency when another person challenges some belief I hold. Rather than consistently exercising Benedictine obedentia and listening deeply to what they say, I sometimes ignore them as they speak and begin to formulate a rebuttal to their position. Such spiritually immature behavior is the norm for all of us unless we discipline ourselves to respond differently. I’m working on developing more spiritual discipline in all this.

Resting in the grace of Jesus gives us the courage for such disciplining of our immature reactivity. If we trust that God has reconciled the world through the cross of Christ, then when our beliefs or views are challenged, we don’t need to react to somehow prove that our convictions are superior to others. We don’t have to “prove” anything.

+Scott

 
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Grace Insists We Be The Adults In The Room (eCrozier #281)

On November 20, 2015, in Benedictine, grace, leadership, by bishopbenhase

“That’s not fair!” I said that a lot as a child when my older sister got to do something I didn’t get to do. It just didn’t seem right to me. My parents should have treated my sister and me the same. I heard the same things coming out of my own children’s mouths when they were young. Kelly and I would let one of our children do something and not the other two. That was “unfair!” It seems we’re all born with a built-in fairness barometer that determines from our perspective when life’s circumstances don’t go our way or appear to be fair to us.

We take this idea of fairness with us into adulthood. When we see someone cut in line outside a movie theatre, get preferential treatment at a busy restaurant, or get a social or economic benefit we think we deserve (or, possibly we think the other person does not deserve), we declare those situations to be “unfair.” Examples of this are programs like the SNAP, the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (better known as “food stamps”), animal grazingrights on government-owned lands, college admission standards, etc. We see some benefit or privilege going to someone else and we ask: “where’s mine? It’s not fair that they get that.”But fairness as a concept is sometimes trapped in the eyes of the beholder. It is often highly contextual and many times we do not know all the mitigating factors. Still, our fairness barometers go off because we presume that everyone should be treated equally all the time.

Fairness is not a Christian theological concept. In fact, our Christian faith is grounded on the central proposition that we are not treated fairly by God. Fairness would presume that we get what we deserve for our sins. It is out of God’s complete mercy that we don’t get what we deserve and are forgiven through the mediation of Jesus on the cross. So, we thank God that God is unfair, giving us a “benefit” that we have neither earned nor deserved. Grace, which is central to the Christian proclamation, is ultimate unfair deal.

This grace then should be incarnated in how we live with others. It should shape our leadership in the Church as well as how we make choices and act in relationship to others in the world. St Benedict in his Rule states that the abbot (the monastery’s leader) should treat all his monks differently, which may at times appear to be unfair. As Benedict writes: “One he must treat with mild goodness, another with reprimands, yet another with the power of persuasion, and thereby accommodate himself according to everyone’s nature and capacity of understanding, and thus adapt himself to the other, that he not hurt the flock entrusted to him.”

Notice how Benedict presumes the abbot is the one who must adapt in his relationships rather than the abbot assuming all those around him must adapt to him. Grace-filled living in the world is then about us adapting and changing our behavior toward others and not expecting them out of some cosmic or internal barometer of fairness to adapt to us. Put differently, grace insists that we be the “adults in the room,” that we not get sucked into insisting on fairness above all else, but rather recognize the deeper action of grace, which trumps fairness always.

 
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St. Benedict’s Guide to Lent (eCrozier #252)

On February 27, 2015, in Benedictine, grace, Lent, Spiritual Disciplines, by bishopbenhase

During these days (of Lent), therefore, let us add something to the usual measure of our service, such as private prayers and abstinence from food and drink, that each one, of his own free will and with the joy of the Holy Spirit, may offer God something over and above the measure appointed for him. That is to say, let him deny himself some food, drink, sleep, pointless conversation and banter, and look forward to Easter with joy and spiritual longing. Rule of St Benedict 49

Part of a traditional Lenten discipline is to deny ourselves something we usually enjoy during the rest of the year. It’s one way for us to remember gratefully the “great denial” Jesus made on our behalf; for he denied himself and took up the cross for our sake. Benedict’s admonition from his Rule reminds us that we shouldn’t do this out of obligation, but out of our “joy and spiritual longing” for Easter. So, we don’t engage in self-denial to prove anything to our self or to others. We don’t do so to impress God or others. And we certainly don’t do so for the purpose of self-justification, which is always a dangerous path to travel. Benedict reminds us there’s a telos to this Lenten discipline and it is joy, the root of that word being, God (“to enjoy” is literally to be “in God”).

I don’t know about you, but I find it easier to deny myself some things more than others. While I enjoy good food and drink, I don’t miss it much when I don’t have it. I’m pretty pedestrian in my tastes and my palate is hardly that of a gourmand. So, for me to give up chocolate or single malt scotch (of which I’m unworthy anyway) or some other delicacy may appear like an act of self-denial to some, but to me, since I could take it or leave it, it’s hardly what Benedict had in mind. When we make such non-denial denials, it’s for the sake of appearances to others and not for a true Lenten discipline.

But, “pointless conversation and banter” hits me closer to the bone. Denying myself that is much harder. Thus, it’s a more needed act of denial on my part. Maybe more than any other vocation in the Church, a bishop regularly engages in “pointless conversation and banter” whether he or she desires to or not. That’s not to say with we don’t participate in “pointed conversation.” Of course we do, hopefully more often than not. But the temptation to deflect or to ignore or to trivialize rather than to get to the heart and truth of the matter is always there. Like with many temptations, such behaviors are a way to run away from one’s true self and the vocation to which I’m called.

Lent then can serve as an invitation for us to get back to the heart and truth of the matter in our lives; to recognize how we might be too serious about the trivial banter in our lives and not be taking seriously enough the people, things, and circumstances of our lives that matter. This is what Benedict meant by stability in the three-fold promise Benedictine monk’s make; that capacity to hang in there when the temptation is to run away from what’s difficult, or to deflect the issue by “pointless conversation,” or to trivialize ourselves or others. Such self-awareness comes as a gift even though it’s often hard to receive. Yet, if we accept the gift for what it is, then we enter into a place where the ground is holy and where we open ourselves daily to the thrust of grace.

+Scott

 
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Stick-to-it-ive-ness: The Virtue of Not Walking Away (eCrozier #188)

On September 6, 2013, in Benedictine, by bishopbenhase

When I was a missionary in Honduras over 30 years ago, one of my assignments was teaching my 5th graders at St John’s School, Puerto Cortes, the Honduran National Anthem: Tu Bandera. The irony of that has never left this Norte Americano. It’s not just that (as anyone in church can tell you) I have a hard time carrying a tune, but what was I doing, a young man from Los Estados Unidos, teaching young Hondurenos their own national anthem? My certainty ever since then has been that there are now 16 or so middle-aged Hondurenos out there who sing their national anthem slightly off key and with an awful Ohioan-infused Spanish accent.

Life is often difficult to translate from language to language or culture to culture. One day in Honduras when I had recess duty after the school lunch, a 2nd grader named Castulo ran up to me and told me in Spanish what I thought was the following: “Rodrigo is swallowing his pencil.” I looked over toward Rodrigo and he was bent over making spitting movements and noises, so I rushed over and put my emergency medical technician training to good use. I performed the Heimlich Maneuver, standing behind him, bringing my fist up into his stomach and forcing his lunch (and hopefully the pencil) up and out onto the playground. You guessed it: there was no pencil. Students gathered around wide-eyed, Castulo repeated what he said to me and at once I realized the horrible mistake I had made. He had said masticando (chewing) rather than tragando (swallowing). Chewing one’s pencil was against school rules and Castulo only wanted to bust Rodrigo. Students never chewed their pencils after that. The punishment was too severe. A teacher forced you to lose your lunch on the playground!

Life is difficult even when we share the same language and culture. The possibilities for misunderstandings and hurt feelings are, as the Bible might say, legion. That’s why we need another Biblical word if we’re to be faithful: hupomona. That’s most often translated endurance (See Romans 5:4). Maybe a better word, however contrived, is stick-to-it-ive-ness, a willingness to stay in relationship and not run away when misunderstandings arise or feelings get hurt, so we can stay together long enough to work through it and maintain our bonds of affection. That doesn’t mean differences won’t remain. Often they do. But it does mean that our differences need not be the cause of a rift in the Body of Christ. A Biblical Hebrew word also comes to mind here: hesed, steadfast love or covenantal love, a love that means that I can no more walk away from the other, whoever he/she may be, than I can walk away from my own body.

That’s why the Benedictine virtue of stability has always been needed in the Church, and for that matter, in all important relationships. We can’t control how another person will handle misunderstandings or hurt feelings. They may walk away from us. But we can control our own behavior. We can resist the desire to walk away. We can work to stay connected trying to understand the other, and remain engaged long enough for God’s love and mercy to work its way past our mutual need to justify ourselves. We can make the relationship more important than insisting that the other acknowledge that we were right and they were wrong. In other words, we can exercise hupomona and hesed.

+Scott

 
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A Salt Marsh as a Metaphor for the Benedictine Promise (eCrozier #178)

On May 17, 2013, in Benedictine, by bishopbenhase

“My promise is to seek the presence of Jesus Christ in the people, things, and circumstances of my life through stability, obedience, and conversion of life.”

This is my promise in the Benedictine order to which I belong. I’ve been reflecting on that promise this week and how it has continued to speak to my life for the 25 years I have lived by it. The interplay of stability, obedience, and conversion of life are the essential elements of the promise. One without the others will not hold.

Last night I watched the sun set behind the marsh near where I’m staying. A friend reminded me that the marsh itself is an example of the interdependency found in the Benedictine promise where the tidal waters work with the plants and animal life to mutually serve and support each other. The tidal waters nourish and feed the cord-grass of the marsh as it comes in and then it transports food and nutrients produced by the salt marsh to the sea as it goes out and feeds the animal life there.

This is an apt metaphor for the Benedictine promise. Practicing stability grounds us where we are and provides a hedge against our human inclination at times to run away from difficult things (or people). Steeped in the faith and practice of the Church we can rest in God and have the stability needed for perspective and reflection on our lives. But stability without obedience and conversion of life can make us rigid and can lead us to cut off from others and from the breath of the Holy Spirit leading us to a new place.

Practicing conversion of life gives us a stance in the world where we’re open to that new person, or thing, or circumstance where God just might be calling us. This openness allows us to experience conversion, a change of life, from the place where we are to the new place God is pulling us. This openness comes from the daily practice of repentance. But if our lives are one constant conversion experience, a daily change from one thing to the next, then we become spiritual butterflies flitting about. Practicing stability helps ensure our groundedness even as we experience conversion of life.

Obedience is like the tidal waters. In the constant ebb and flow of stability and conversion of life, the practice of listening to God’s voice in the Scriptures, the Church’s tradition, and in a good word from a sister or brother provides us with the spiritual nutrients we need as we seek Jesus in the people, things, and circumstances of our lives. Obedience, the discipline of deep listening to God, to others, and to the pulling of our hearts, gives us competence in our faith practice to discern the way forward. But obedience alone can make us passive; always listening, but never doing anything about what we’ve learned through our obedience. Conversion of life moves us from the places where we’re stuck reminding us that God is leading us to the New Jerusalem.

No metaphor is perfect, but I find the ocean, the tidal waters, and the salt marsh to be an apt visual, organic metaphor for how stability, obedience, conversion of life work in the Benedictine promise.

+Scott

 
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Racial Bias and Conversion of Life (eCrozier #137)

On June 1, 2012, in Benedictine, racism, by bishopbenhase

A recent study by researchers at Stanford University exposes just how deeply embedded racial constructs are in our culture. The study, “Race and the Fragility of the Legal Distinction between Juveniles and Adults,” asked participants to read about a 14-year-old male with 17 prior juvenile convictions who brutally raped an elderly woman. Half of the respondents were told the offender was black; the other half were told he was white. The difference in race was the only change between the two stories.

Participants were then asked two questions dealing with sentencing and perception. The first question was this: “To what extent do you support life sentences without the possibility of parole for juveniles when no one was killed?” The second question was this: “How much do you believe that juveniles who commit crimes such as these should be considered less blameworthy than an adult who commits a similar crime?” The study found that participants who had in mind a black offender more strongly endorsed a policy of sentencing juveniles convicted of violent crimes to life in prison without parole compared to respondents who had in mind a white offender.

That result hardly should be surprising given the racial history of our culture. What surprised me was that the study took into account racial bias and political ideology, so since the study controlled for those effects, it was clear that neither accounted for these results. One of the study’s authors said: “The findings showed that people without racial animus or bias are affected by race as much as those with bias.” This indicates how deeply seeded race is in our culture.

Recently Arizona Secretary of State Ken Bennett, who I understand is considering running for Governor of that state, told a radio interviewer that it’s “possible” he’ll keep President Obama off that state’s ballot unless he gets proof the president was born in the U.S.A. “I’m not a birther,” he said. “I believe that the president was born in Hawaii, or at least, I hope he was.”

Secretary Bennett is a respected elected official in his state. He is well-educated and in his own words he disavows any racial bias or any participation in wild conspiracy theories. And yet, he might possibly withhold President Obama’s name from the presidential ballot in his state. Maybe the Stanford study could help explain how Secretary Bennett could possibly consider doing that? I have to wonder if President Obama were white would this be something he would even remotely be considering.

St Benedict in his Rule reminds us that we are called to a daily process of conversion of life. Such conversion, however, cannot truly happen unless we are willing to have the full light of truth shine on us and on the culture in which we live. It is clear to me that we are affected by our culture in ways that are so deep and unconscious we often have trouble recognizing the truth when it comes to us. This means rather than berating ourselves for our bias, racial and otherwise, we would do better just to keep awake to its reality and then do our best to account for it as we seek daily conversion to the Gospel of Jesus.

+Scott

 
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The Daily Nap as Spiritual Practice (eCrozier #135)

On May 11, 2012, in Benedictine, Rule of Life, Spiritual Disciplines, by bishopbenhase

My friend Ken Leech was fond of telling the story of Fr Neville who was the long-tenured chaplain at a theological college in the Church of England. Fr Neville, it seems, had the disciplined spiritual practice of taking a two-hour nap every afternoon from 2 pm until 4 pm. He kept this spiritual practice as part of a larger, disciplined Rule of Life. One day, the new Dean of the College approached him at breakfast asking him for a favor. There was a visiting African bishop who was to address the students of the college after lunch that day. The Dean had just been notified that he must attend a meeting of university deans that very afternoon. Since he could not host the visiting bishop and also attend this meeting, he asked Fr Neville if he could meet the bishop when he arrived at half past one, introduce him for his talk with the student body, and then see him to the guest quarters afterward. Fr Neville assured him he could and he would.

The visiting bishop from Africa arrived on schedule. Fr Neville greeted him, got him settled in, and right before 2 p.m. brought the bishop to the college’s assembly hall where the entire student body awaited him. The students, who knew of Fr Neville’s spiritual discipline, might have been there more for their curiosity about what Fr Neville would do as they were for the visiting bishop’s remarks. Fr Neville gave a stirring, heart-felt introduction of the bishop, invited the bishop to the podium, and as the bishop began to speak, Fr Neville left the assembly hall, retired to his room, and took his daily nap. At 4 p.m. Fr Neville arose, as was his practice, headed back to the assembly hall, arriving just as the bishop was concluding his remarks, thanked the bishop for a thoughtful and spirit-filled presentation, and escorted the bishop to the guest quarters so the bishop could rest before tea.

I cannot do justice in writing this story. One really has to have heard it told by the story-master, Ken Leech (and with Fr Leech’s version it takes about 20 minutes to tell). Still, however humorous we might find the story and the circumstances and individuals who are a part of it, there is a deeper learning in it for all of us. Fr Neville was not about to alter his spiritual practice for anyone, especially and including a visiting bishop. His disciplined practice shaped his discipleship in Jesus Christ. Thus, he was committed to it, come what may. And he was able to accomplish what his dean asked him to do without sacrificing his spiritual practice.

Now, we all might question how important naps are to any spiritual discipline. Fair enough. Eating a quart of ice cream every night as a spiritual discipline might be equally suspect. But I want to defend Fr Neville’s naps as spiritual discipline. Naps are just short, restful holidays from our work. Thus, they certainly can be a legitimate part of any spiritual practice. Remember that rest was an integral and indispensable part of St Benedict’s Rule – still the gold standard for a disciplined spiritual life.

On Monday, I am taking a five-day “nap,” er, retreat. This is a busy time in the life of the Church. It is not a good time to get away and take this retreat. That may be why it is absolutely essential that I do it.

+Scott

 

 
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Is it sufficient enough just to have convictions, but not act on them? (eCrozier #118)

On January 6, 2012, in baptism, Benedictine, culture, incarnational, by bishopbenhase

The comedian Louis C.K. performs a hilarious bit about flying first class now that he’s become a successful entertainer. In the bit, he tells how when he’s sitting in first class and sees military personnel walking back to coach class, he considers getting up from his seat and saying to them: “Look, you’ve been willing to serve and maybe die in your service, the least I could do is trade seats with you so you can fly first class.” Of course, he never actually does this and probably never will, but he nevertheless believes he’s a better person, maybe even better than most people, for simply contemplating doing such a good deed. Louis C.K. is so funny because his comedy captures the spirit of our contemporary culture, sometimes devastatingly so. In our culture, you really do not have to act on your beliefs or convictions. It’s sufficient enough just to have them.

A few years ago I asked an adult Sunday School class: “What are the expectations of a faithful Muslim?” A number of people immediately responded: “pray five times a day.” Another quickly added: “Fast during the daylight hours of Ramadan.” Still another said: “If possible, make a pilgrimage to Mecca in your lifetime.” I then asked: “What are the expectations of a faithful Christian in our Anglican tradition?” There was some awkward silence before one person offered: “Go to church on Sunday and try to live a good life.” I saw a lot of nodding heads. Everyone seemed satisfied with that answer, but I said that in our Anglican tradition there were more behavioral expectations than that. I then spoke about weekly participation in the Eucharist, daily prayer using some form of the Daily Office, and the regular practice of service and justice in the world. And that was just for starters. I asked them to review the Baptismal Covenant in the Prayer Book. I said our Anglican Tradition had a Benedictine quality to its spiritual practice where we seek a balance of work, rest, and play; that we’re strongly incarnational in living our faith, finding God particularly in the people, things, and circumstances of our lives.

The general response was that this was all well and good, but none of these should be considered “requirements” or even “expectations.” One man even said that it wouldn’t be very hospitable to newcomers if we laid expectations on them. “It might turn them off. They wouldn’t feel welcome. Besides, we’re saved by faith, not works.” Yes, that’s true. But faith, at least as I’ve always understood it, is more than going to church weekly and trying to be a good person. Faith is the joining together of belief and action so that it changes and shapes the way we live our faith in the world.

Like with Louis C.K.’s comedy bit, it’s not enough for us to just think good thoughts about God, or really intend with all our hearts to help, for example, with building a Habitat house, or to contemplate seriously sharing our faith in Jesus with our neighbor. It matters that we do these things rather than to congratulate ourselves for merely desiring to do them someday. Is it any wonder that many people, particularly young adults, are turned off by what they perceive as the hypocrisy of the Church? As one young adult said to me recently: “I want to follow Jesus. I’m just not too sure I want to hang out with members of his fan club.” Such perceptions will only change when others see in us a congruency of belief and action.

+Scott

 
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eCrozier #28

On April 14, 2010, in Benedictine, discipleship, by bishopbenhase

“The new person is like a garment made to cover the individual believer…It is impossible to become a new person as a solitary individual. The new person is not the individual believer after he has been justified and sanctified, but the Christian community, the Body of Christ, Christ himself.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

To be a disciple of Jesus is to be committed to Conversion of Life, or said another way, to the transformation of our lives. Our vows in baptism give us identity and purpose; so that our lives, our relationships, Christ’s church, indeed the very culture in which we live, may be transformed. By practicing stability and obedience we are confronted with ourselves as we seek faithfulness to the Lord. The struggle in the world and the struggle in our souls is one struggle. In that work of conversion, we discover God’s kingdom.

Daily Conversion of Life is the practice of seeking God’s presence in the new, which is every next moment in our lives. Our bodies change, the Church is different, a friend moves – we face continuous change and constant conversion. We must then pray for an openness to the work of the Holy Spirit in ourselves, which, based on the truth of Scripture, is an openness to joy. In that joy we “press on for what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:13). We live trusting that God is in the next moment of our lives.

Here is how we might open ourselves to this daily transformation:

· Giving ourselves to today’s demands and possibilities; striving to take practical action here and now;

· Living with our own death before us (Benedict wrote: “keep your own death before your eyes each day.”) by learning to depend radically on God alone.

· Committing ourselves to maturity in our faith, in our emotional life, and by accepting responsibility for ourselves so that we might love others rather than blame them when we are dissatisfied with our lives;

· Praying that the Lord will use us as we are with the gifts, skills, and shortcomings we have. We’re called to offer what we have in the real context of our lives; and,

· Relieving ourselves of anxious attempts to ensure our future. It is God’s business to decide how long God will use us.

Thus, our daily Conversion of Life will always require our openness and vulnerability to the other and to the new thing that God is doing in our lives. As leaders it takes discipline on our part to maintain such openness and vulnerability. It does not always come easily or naturally to us. If we are able to maintain such discipline, however, we will discover that our leadership will become less about us and more about what God is up to in the world through us.

+Scott

 
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eCrozier #27

On April 9, 2010, in Benedictine, leadership, by bishopbenhase

I shall cleave to thee with all my being, then shall I in nothing have pain and labor and my life shall be a real life, being wholly full of thee. – Augustine of Hippo

In the Benedictine Promise: Obedience.

Obedience for Benedict was not following orders or doing what one was told. It was and is holy listening. It is coming to the truth that our only way is Christ’s way who came not to do his own will, but the will of the One who sent him. The practice of stability grounds us so that we have the space and time to truly practice obedience. Thus, our holy listening can become fruit as it leads us to holy action. There is no way to shortcut this. Faithful obedience must come before faithful action.

Obedience is grounded in God’s word as revealed to us in Scripture as we read it with others in community and as it is prayed over by the Church. Obedience to the Word of God is obedience to Jesus. It is not obedience to one’s own interpretation of the Bible. That is a distorted understanding of Reformation theology that is still very much present in our culture today. This distortion has become secularized in the ethos of hyper-individualism where everyone gets to be their own spiritual tyrant.

So, obedience is not an individualistic practice. In truth, it can never be if it is faithful. Left to our own devices, we can construct all sorts of rationales and justifications for our actions. We can all live in denial about our obedience and subsequent actions. As the old saying goes: “Denial (De-Nile) is not just a river in Egypt.” The practice of obedience liberates us from the shackles of the distorted ethos of hyper-individualism, which, we should know, undermines every level of community in our culture today.

Benedict understood how central community was to obedience. It is our communion with one another that creates obedience. In communion, listening, and discernment, we seek God’s will. In communion, hope, and decision we seek to obey and act. We need an obedience that is not grudgingly given, that does not foster, as Benedict wrote, a grumbling in our hearts, but rather an obedience that intentionally places us vulnerably open to the communion of saints. This is how we bear the seal of Him who died.

Faithful leadership in the church incarnates such obedience. You and I will often have to insist upon it because we serve a culturally-infected church; one that so often acts first and then even fails to do any significant reflection on the action. Obedience insists that we first listen to God’s voice with one another, then humbly act, and then reflect critically on our actions. In a culture of the “quick fix,” “just do it,” “winning is everything,” taking the needed time to be obedient is one of greatest challenges of leadership. Let’s not fail to be obedient.

+Scott

 
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