Holy Rule for January 8
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St. Mary's Monastery
Jan 7, 2026, 5:29:10 PM (9 days ago) Jan 7
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Br. Jerome Leo’s Daily Reflection on the Holy Rule
January 8, May 9, September 8
Chapter 1: On the Kinds of Monks
It is well known that there are four kinds of monks. The first kind are the Cenobites, those who live in monasteries and serve under a rule and an Abbot. The second kind are the Anchorites or Hermits, those who, no longer in the first fervor of their reformation, but after long probation in a monastery, having learned by the help of many brethren how to fight against the devil, go out well armed from the ranks of the community to the solitary combat of the desert. They are able now, with no help save from God, to fight single-handed against the vices of the flesh and their own evil thoughts. The third kind of monks, a detestable kind, are the Sarabaites. These, not having been tested as gold in the furnace (Wis. 3:6), by any rule or by the lessons of experience, are as soft as lead. In their works they still keep faith with the world, so that their tonsure marks them as liars before God. They live in twos or threes, or even singly, without a shepherd, in their own sheepfolds and not in the Lord's. Their law is the desire for self-gratification: whatever enters their mind or appeals to them, that they call holy; what they dislike, they regard as unlawful. The fourth kind of monks are those called Gyrovagues. These spend their whole lives tramping from province to province, staying as guests in different monasteries for three or four days at a time. Always on the move, with no stability, they indulge their own wills and succumb to the allurements of gluttony, and are in every way worse than the Sarabaites. Of the miserable conduct of all such it is better to be silent than to speak. Passing these over, therefore, let us proceed, with God's help, to lay down a rule for the strongest kind of monks, the Cenobites.
REFLECTION
What are the two major things that St. Benedict dislikes about the bad types of monk? They have no stability and they follow their own wills. Obedience is the essence of monastic struggle, and we will be touching on it throughout the Holy Rule. Stability, while getting lots of mention, deservedly takes a lesser role in the Rule, even though it has become a vow for Benedictines, so it might pay to take a closer look at stability right at the beginning of our reading of the Rule.
The Desert Fathers said: "Stay in your cell and your cell will teach you everything." Real cinch, right? Wrong! Don't picture staying in one's cell like a personal day from work, when you sleep as late as you like, get dressed at noon (if then!) and decide you can eat for the day without leaving the house to go to the store or, for that matter, without leaving the couch. That's not what this is about.
Monastics could tell you that the cell can be paradise, but it can also be hell, a furnace of nearly impossible heat. In fact, for many of us, it has been both at one time or another, and maybe, just maybe, it isn't done switching roles yet! Times of paradise are nice, they can swell the heart with gratitude and love, but every religious knows that we cannot stay on the mountaintop forever, like Peter; we may not pitch tents there.
The furnace, now there's a fetching little image! But it is essential, too. Benedictine life seeks to lead us to God. For every single one of us, that means cleaning out a lot of imperfection. We may start out eagerly wanting to be like "gold tried in the furnace, seven times refined," but it's a safe bet that early on, after a time or two in that inferno, we'll be trying to bargain for less, maybe four or five times refined at most! It's no debutante's ball in there!
Hate the furnace/gold imagery? Can't blame you there, especially if you live in the North and furnaces are tricky and expensive worries! Try a sauna. Still hard, still challenging, still sweats a LOT of gunk out. However, make sure you jump in the cold water right after the sauna, just so you don't think all this stuff is REALLY a spa!
The fact is, for Benedictines, stability, whether of cloister or geography or of heart, is a major piece of the puzzle. It's the ability to stick with it, stay in there, and keep trying. It is the fixedness, not just of place, but of heart and will. It is more than just not moving around.
A consumerist society is fueled by desire, change and variety. Small wonder that it encourages us to be always moving, always seeking the novel, always distracted: its profit base depends on that and, whatever else may be said; consumerism is a greedy little devil. Stability flies in the face of all these falsehoods. It tells us that "rut" and routine are two very different things for us. The routine, the mundane, the everyday and predictable are precisely the arenas in which we must strive and win in the spiritual life.
Stability teaches us that. Our fleeting hells have heaven within them and our Edens can turn into Dead Seas in a flash. Stability forces us to stick with it, to weather those changes, to know EVERY side of life and love and heart and place. No wonder St. Benedict loved it so! It is the courage of which monastics are made!
Br. Jerome Leo Hughes, OSB (RIP)
Br. Jerome Leo’s Daily Reflection on the Holy Rule
January 8, May 9, September 8
Chapter 1: On the Kinds of Monks
It is well known that there are four kinds of monks. The first kind are the Cenobites, those who live in monasteries and serve under a rule and an Abbot. The second kind are the Anchorites or Hermits, those who, no longer in the first fervor of their reformation, but after long probation in a monastery, having learned by the help of many brethren how to fight against the devil, go out well armed from the ranks of the community to the solitary combat of the desert. They are able now, with no help save from God, to fight single-handed against the vices of the flesh and their own evil thoughts. The third kind of monks, a detestable kind, are the Sarabaites. These, not having been tested as gold in the furnace (Wis. 3:6), by any rule or by the lessons of experience, are as soft as lead. In their works they still keep faith with the world, so that their tonsure marks them as liars before God. They live in twos or threes, or even singly, without a shepherd, in their own sheepfolds and not in the Lord's. Their law is the desire for self-gratification: whatever enters their mind or appeals to them, that they call holy; what they dislike, they regard as unlawful. The fourth kind of monks are those called Gyrovagues. These spend their whole lives tramping from province to province, staying as guests in different monasteries for three or four days at a time. Always on the move, with no stability, they indulge their own wills and succumb to the allurements of gluttony, and are in every way worse than the Sarabaites. Of the miserable conduct of all such it is better to be silent than to speak. Passing these over, therefore, let us proceed, with God's help, to lay down a rule for the strongest kind of monks, the Cenobites.
REFLECTION
What are the two major things that St. Benedict dislikes about the bad types of monk? They have no stability and they follow their own wills. Obedience is the essence of monastic struggle, and we will be touching on it throughout the Holy Rule. Stability, while getting lots of mention, deservedly takes a lesser role in the Rule, even though it has become a vow for Benedictines, so it might pay to take a closer look at stability right at the beginning of our reading of the Rule.
The Desert Fathers said: "Stay in your cell and your cell will teach you everything." Real cinch, right? Wrong! Don't picture staying in one's cell like a personal day from work, when you sleep as late as you like, get dressed at noon (if then!) and decide you can eat for the day without leaving the house to go to the store or, for that matter, without leaving the couch. That's not what this is about.
Monastics could tell you that the cell can be paradise, but it can also be hell, a furnace of nearly impossible heat. In fact, for many of us, it has been both at one time or another, and maybe, just maybe, it isn't done switching roles yet! Times of paradise are nice, they can swell the heart with gratitude and love, but every religious knows that we cannot stay on the mountaintop forever, like Peter; we may not pitch tents there.
The furnace, now there's a fetching little image! But it is essential, too. Benedictine life seeks to lead us to God. For every single one of us, that means cleaning out a lot of imperfection. We may start out eagerly wanting to be like "gold tried in the furnace, seven times refined," but it's a safe bet that early on, after a time or two in that inferno, we'll be trying to bargain for less, maybe four or five times refined at most! It's no debutante's ball in there!
Hate the furnace/gold imagery? Can't blame you there, especially if you live in the North and furnaces are tricky and expensive worries! Try a sauna. Still hard, still challenging, still sweats a LOT of gunk out. However, make sure you jump in the cold water right after the sauna, just so you don't think all this stuff is REALLY a spa!
The fact is, for Benedictines, stability, whether of cloister or geography or of heart, is a major piece of the puzzle. It's the ability to stick with it, stay in there, and keep trying. It is the fixedness, not just of place, but of heart and will. It is more than just not moving around.
A consumerist society is fueled by desire, change and variety. Small wonder that it encourages us to be always moving, always seeking the novel, always distracted: its profit base depends on that and, whatever else may be said; consumerism is a greedy little devil. Stability flies in the face of all these falsehoods. It tells us that "rut" and routine are two very different things for us. The routine, the mundane, the everyday and predictable are precisely the arenas in which we must strive and win in the spiritual life.
Stability teaches us that. Our fleeting hells have heaven within them and our Edens can turn into Dead Seas in a flash. Stability forces us to stick with it, to weather those changes, to know EVERY side of life and love and heart and place. No wonder St. Benedict loved it so! It is the courage of which monastics are made!
Br. Jerome Leo Hughes, OSB (RIP)
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