October 2008
 

Stabilitas                                                                                         from the Pastor

One of the blessings of taking our yearly pilgrimage to Weston Priory in Vermont is the chance to peruse their bookstore.  My husband and I nearly always find something of interest, some new book to stretch our imagination and to challenge our souls.  This year, the book that caught my attention (and my dollars) was a slight, small paperback volume entitled, The Rule of Benedict for Beginners: Spirituality for Daily Life, by the Dutch writer, Wil Derkse.  Fewer than 100 pages long, the book was worth its modest price.  Adapting the Benedictine lifestyle to altogether ordinary folk, the author describes three vows or promises that monastics profess: stabilitas, conversatio morum, and obedientia.  According to Derkse, these promises are defined in this way:

stabilitas— This is the ability to “stick with” something.  You promise not to walk away from what you have committed yourself to, and that which makes an appeal to you here and now.   

conversatio morum—This is the process of seeking to “permanently and daily” improve your attitude and the way that you live in the world.

obedientia—This is the art of listening carefully and responding “from the heart and actively.”[i]

While all the vows have their purpose and benefits, the one that has really fixed itself in my mind has been the promise of stabilitas.  So much of our lives can be unstable and it can be tempting to walk away from that which challenges us in mind, body, and spirit.  Perhaps we don’t actually “leave,” but we disengage or we numb ourselves in those places where we once had vitality, enthusiasm, or even hope.  Maybe we no longer pay attention in the same way, or perhaps we become passive-- removing ourselves from the context of making decisions that ultimately impact us and others.  Much has been made about “keeping our options open” in American society.  While it is good to know that we have options for our lives, the practice of stabilitas is nearly the opposite approach.  Stabilitas helps us to remain in community or family life so that we don’t give up or throw up our hands when we are beset by disappointing and discouraging circumstances.  The promise of stabilitas helps us to stay grounded, rather than flitting from experience to experience, just because we can.

There are times when our relationship with God and loved ones seems like an easy friendship, like a couple walking hand-in-hand down a country road.  The scenery is beautiful, and we are captivated by the wonder, comfort, and safety of our companionship. We may initially have had a deep, pivotal spiritual awakening and feel very close to God, like we are in harmony with all of existence.  Or we may experience holy signs, experience the feeling of “flow,” and become preoccupied with the benefits of the encounter.  At these times, we likely engage relatively well with our neighbor and community. 

But then there are times when it seems that a storm surges all around us and we are hard-pressed to remain in communion with others, even close friends.  Something happens, as things are wont to do, and we find that we are working harder to maintain the connection.  Perhaps we panic. Or we cry out.  Maybe we revert to an uncomfortable silence or a tender defensiveness.  We wonder where God is or maybe we simply stop caring. 

Remember the passage in the gospel story about Jesus stilling the storm?  First the storm comes and the disciples are afraid of perishing.  Jesus is asleep on a cushion in the stern of the boat.  We may wonder how he can sleep through the pelting rain, a roiling boat, and wind blasting from every direction.  When the disciples awaken him, a serene Jesus rebukes the wind; the storm is transformed to calm.  In the midst of the storm, Jesus doesn’t gather the disciples and abandon ship.  Maybe he knew that some storms are made worse by our reaction to them.  Certainly he had a different perspective.  When we consider his calming presence, his ability to “stick-it-out” with his disciples, we see the promise of stabilitas in the flesh.

In the church, the promise of individuals to practice stabilitas together can build and enhance community.  It is a gift that we can give to each other.  In our context, stabilitas means that we promise not give up on each other.  Stabilitas means that we hold each other through those dry and barren spells, when it seems as though God is far away or deeply hidden to us.  Stabilitas means that when we come to worship, we remember that we do not come just for ourselves.  We realize in our hearts that someone else actually needs our abiding presence—if only to stand and to sing and to pray beside them on a Sunday morning when they are struggling to do the same.  A professor of mine once said that we can choose to dig many shallow wells in our search for water, or we can keep digging deeply and consistently in one well to find God’s living water.  Stabilitas is choosing to dig when our hands are sore, our hearts hurt, and when there are still a few, or many, painful feet left to go. 

There is a great quote by Henri Nouwen: “Hope means to keep living amid desperation and to keep humming in the darkness. Hoping is knowing that there is love; it is trust in tomorrow; it is falling asleep and waking again when the sun rises. In the midst of a gale at sea, it is to discover land. In the eyes of another, it is to see that he understands you. As long as there is still hope, there will also be prayer. And God will be holding you in his hands.[ii]

Friends, we are often caught in the midst of turbulent and difficult times.  Life is like this.  But rather than giving up or breaking down, how might we re-vision our fidelity and faithfulness in life’s frequent storms as a holy act, a sacred promise of stabilitas?  In what way would that be a gift to others, and also to ourselves?  Perhaps by living by this promise in our own personal and communal commitments, we will indeed make ourselves available to discovering a new land.  Maybe then we can discover the calm and reassuring presence of our God.

May you carry on patiently and with a faith-filled heart,

Dee