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As a Lay Benedictine Community, we are spending this Advent reflecting on what it means to truly care for humanity. We are reminded constantly that the call of Christ is not an abstract principle, nor a purely spiritual invitation. It is incarnational. It is grounded in the real people in front of us: our neighbours, our brothers and sisters in community, our fellow parishioners, and our wider communities. Caring for humanity means putting flesh on the Gospel, especially for those who are most vulnerable. In my other work with the  Caritas Social Action Network , I have spent much of this year listening to families across England and Wales and producing research on the deep financial strain facing Catholic families. One area that has had a damaging and long-term effect is the two-child cap on benefits. For years charities, Christian leaders, and anti-poverty organisations have spoken out against it, arguing that it has disproportionately harmed those who can least afford it. Many families told us of the daily decisions they must make between heating and eating, sacrificing not just comforts but essentials. Families of faith who desperately want to give their children stability, dignity, and hope have instead been pushed into anxiety and insecurity. And so, after years of sustained advocacy, I was overjoyed to hear that the Chancellor has now scrapped the two-child cap. This change is set to bring around  450,000 children out of poverty  in the coming years. Praise be to God. It is a profound example of what can happen when the Christian conscience speaks clearly in the public square, and when our commitment to the dignity of every child is lived out as a matter of justice and mercy. Yet removing the policy does not remove the need. Poverty in this country remains staggering. In our research for the  Counting the Cost  report, we found that families will continue to face incredibly difficult financial circumstances, with many on the edge of survival. These are not families far removed from us or living in isolation. They are the people sitting next to us in the pews each Sunday. They are parents quietly skipping meals so their children can eat. They are grandparents helping to care for grandchildren while living on a strained pension. They are the families volunteering at parish events, the people we speak to every week, and the faces we see at Communion, many of them suffering in silence. One of the most sobering lessons from the report was that those experiencing poverty often do not feel able to speak about it. Whether through embarrassment, fear of judgement, or simply a desire to remain dignified, they carry the burden alone. As Christians, as a community rooted in the Rule of St Benedict, we cannot let this go unnoticed. Advent invites us to become the presence of Christ not only in contemplation, but also in tangible solidarity. Here are some practical ways our community, especially during this Advent season, can begin responding, drawn directly from the recommendations of the report and grounded in the Catholic Social Teaching tradition. 1. Build parish or community teams using the See–Judge–Act method This simple but powerful approach is one of the Church’s greatest tools for transformation: See  the reality of poverty at a local level. Judge  it in the light of the Gospel and the dignity of every person. Act  in solidarity, not just compassion. Could groups be formed within the community to listen, observe, and respond with courage? Could we ensure that the families most at risk are not invisible to us? 2. Provide, or make accessible, Family Support Services Family support must be structured, not occasional. Many do not know where to turn for: debt advice counselling practical assistance pastoral support Are we equipped as a community to point people to the right help? Is there a place people can go? Do our members feel able to ask for help or signpost others to the right places? 3. Look Beyond Material Needs Poverty is not only about a lack of money. It is also about barriers, isolation, and exclusion. Supporting families means thinking holistically: employment or skills opportunities resilience-building and mentoring addressing obstacles such as childcare or transport Every one of us has gifts that can serve the community in ways that restore dignity. Ask:  Is our community a place where people feel able to say “I need help”? Are there structures of mentoring, mutual aid, and belonging? Pope Francis speaks often about the need to form a  culture of encounter , a phrase that is at the heart of Advent. A culture of encounter is humble, patient, and generous. It looks beyond labels or assumptions and seeks to meet Christ in the other, especially where society has failed to see Him. Advent: A Time to Make Space for Others We often think of Lent as the season where our faith moves outward in almsgiving and works of service. But Advent is also a time of preparation, not only for the Lord’s coming at Christmas, but for His coming in those who need us today. When we turn our attention to the needs of struggling families, we shift our focus away from ourselves and we make space for God to act within us. Christ came into the world not in the halls of power but in a family living on the margins. He chose the vulnerability of a poor household. When we serve the least of these, we serve Christ Himself. In this holy season, we are invited once again to recognise Him in the families who struggle, in the parents doing their best, in the child who goes without, in the newborn in the manger. May our Advent prayer be simple:  that we might see Him. And having seen Him, that we might serve Him.

The image of the shepherd runs like a vein through Scripture: it shapes how God relates to a vulnerable people and how people are called to relate to one another. Sometimes we stand in the safety of the flock; sometimes we take up the staff. The question isn’t merely symbolic, it is practical, moral, and spiritual. Where we find ourselves at any moment will shape how we listen, act, and love. Photo by Pawan Sharma  on Unsplash Biblical Foundation The Bible uses shepherding to describe God’s involvement with a vulnerable people. In the Old Testament the metaphor describes God and good leaders as shepherds who lead, feed, protect, and judge the flock. The Gospels adapt that language: the Synoptics deploy parables and pastoral observations while John gives the clearest, most theological portrait in the Good Shepherd discourse. Old Testament Genesis 48:15: Jacob blesses Joseph and remembers God as his shepherd, a personal testimony of guidance. Psalm 23: God as shepherd provides pasture, rest, restoration and company through danger, the image shapes Israel’s prayer and consolation. Ezekiel 34: Prophets condemn leaders who scatter and prey on the flock and promise divine judgment and shepherding instead. Jeremiah 23:1–4: Similar criticism of negligent shepherds, paired with a promise of righteous shepherds who will gather and feed the remnant. The Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke) Matthew 9:36 & Mark 6:34: Jesus sees crowds “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd,” prompting compassion and provision. Matthew 18:12–14 & Luke 15:3–7: The parable of the lost sheep: the shepherd leaves the ninety-nine to rescue the one, highlighting divine pursuit, mercy, and communal joy when the lost are recovered. Mark’s brief references point toward pastoral provision, as in the feeding of the five thousand. John 10: Key Themes Jesus calls himself “the Good Shepherd” who “lays down his life for the sheep.” The passage emphasises intimacy: “I know my sheep and my sheep know me” and voice recognition: the sheep follow because they know the shepherd’s voice. John anchor’s identity and mission in shepherding language and extends care beyond the immediate fold: “I have other sheep that are not of this fold.”   When We Are the Shepherd We are shepherds when we bear responsibility for others. This role appears in many forms: parent, mentor, pastor, community leader, friend who intervenes. Signs we are acting as shepherd: We prioritise presence and listening before we direct. We make help accessible and take responsibility for restoration. We accept cost—of comfort, time, reputation, or resources—for another’s flourishing. Typical moments we become a shepherd : A person, family, small group, or community is under our care and needs feeding, protection or guidance. We lead formation: teaching, mentoring, counselling, or creating environments where people can learn to hear God. Someone is endangered, lost, or unable to care for themselves we must act to safeguard them. When We Are the Sheep We are sheep when we need to receive rather than perform. Being the sheep is not passive failure; it is the posture of dependence the Scriptures describe as proper at times. Signs we are acting as sheep: We ask for help and accept direction or correction. We admit dependence and allow ourselves to be known rather than proving our worth by productivity. We rest in our identity, provision, and formation. Typical moments we are sheep: We are vulnerable, confused, exhausted, grieving, or lacking resources and require patient guidance. We are learning, discerning, or trying to hear God’s voice and need formation rather than instruction. We have failed, strayed, or become trapped by habits and need rescuing, restoration, and forgiveness. Moving Well Between Roles: Practical Guidelines Healthy spiritual life requires fluidity between shepherd and sheep. The church and any community needs both strong shepherds and teachable sheep. Listen first: shepherds begin by listening; sheep practice honest asking. Name the role: say aloud when you need care or when you’re offering it. Clarity prevents confusion. Set limits and supports shepherds keep accountable rhythms; sheep accept boundaries that enable healthy dependence. Pass on the role: shepherds train successors; sheep are invited to learn to shepherd as part of their formation. Short Reflective Practice Sit quietly for two minutes and ask: “Right now, am I needing to be found or called to seek?” If you need care: name one person to ask and one person you will tell this week. If you’re called to shepherd: choose one small sacrificial step we will take this week to protect, listen to, or restore someone.   Both images—sheep and shepherd—frame a single vocation: to know the Shepherd’s voice and to embody his care. Sometimes we rest in the fold; sometimes we walk ahead with staff and watchful eyes. Both are necessary; both are holy.

Where and what is Europe? Israel and Australia have contended in Eurovision, so geography cannot be the main factor. England left the European Union, but did not leave Europe. Where can we find the commonality, the glue that defines Europe and holds it together? The nearest I ever came to an answer to this question was during a visit to a medieval church in Slovakia. There the walls were adorned with ancient frescoes, biblical scenes and familiar saints. It could easily have been an ancient Yorskhire church – I was far from home and yet completely at home. Here was a language and culture, a milieu which was at once completely Slovak and yet completely my own. In the Catholic Faith the foundations of Europe are to be found.   Photo Credit: Annalisa Bellini on Unsplash Pius XII had already named St Benedict Europe’s ‘Father’ when Paul VI declared him ‘Patron Saint of Europe’, Pope Paul did so standing in the magnificent reconstruction of Monte Cassino, which had just risen from the ashes of War.  But whilst admiring the glorious marble, he was also acutely aware of the graves nearby. Europe was in tatters, its peace fragile, and its future uncertain. More than a thousand years earlier, Benedict had similarly found himself in the ruins of the Roman Empire. His project of restoration did not extend much beyond his own soul, but with the tools of prayer, work, and study he found an interior Pax, peace which drew others and spread like fire. Wherever monks took the Cross, the book, and the plough a gentle, subtle order and this mysterious ‘Pax’ followed. Photo Credit: Shubhankar Bhowmick Benedict’s successes were not his intention. He never intended to found Europe, or build Western civilisation, or preserve the corpus of the literature of classical civilisation. His eyes looked away from self and towards the Truth which is God. The rest fell into place. Monasteries are places of peace. Our English landscape is scattered with monastic ruins. The monks are long gone but the peace remains, and those who lack or long for peace often frequent these ruins in search of this elusive peace. But peace is not so far from our grasp. The unity which Christ prayed for begins with each of us, and St Benedict is a fine example of the interior unity and integrity which can be ours when we truly seek God, when we are eager for the work of God - His due worship. Photo Credit: Wylly Suhendra on Unsplash If Europe has a future, it must remember its past and find, amidst its own ruins and the debris of its culture, the answers to its ills. It must sink its roots again into the good news of Jesus Christ. The rest will follow. Abbot Cuthbert Brogan 2025

As I am writing this in July 2025, England is between heat waves. We have already had two heat waves this year and the third is just about to start. Did St Benedict have anything to say about heat waves? The answer to that - surprisingly - is yes. Unlike England, Italy in St Benedict’s time could get very hot in the summer. Monks had to go about their daily business in the summer heat. For some, it was not a problem, but if monks were out in the fields attending to crops, perhaps bringing in the harvest, then heat could be a major problem. In chapter 40 of the Rule of St Benedict, he writes that the superior must determine ‘when local conditions, work or the summer heat indicates the need for a greater amount’ of drink. For Benedict, drink meant wine and he says in the same chapter that ‘we believe a half bottle of wine a day is sufficient for each monk’. Photo Credit: Kevin Kelly on Unsplash This stipulation of half a bottle a day is one of the more famous quotes from the Rule because it conjures up for many the image of the happy, half-inebriated monk. However, St Benedict is not really in favour of this half bottle. He says in Chapter 40 that ‘we read that monks should not drink wine at all’. He recognizes though that it is the custom of the society in which he lives that wine should be part of the daily diet. So he says that ‘let us at least agree to drink moderately, and not to the point of excess’. In Benedict’s day, just as today, there was a tension between those who believed that the ‘real’ Christian life was one of asceticism and extreme spiritual practices and those who were prepared to accept people as they were, with all their faults, failings and imperfections. St Benedict makes a number of references in his Rule to ‘real’ monks who stormed the bastions of the spiritual life. Equally, he is constantly referring to and making provisions for his monks who are far from perfect. So it is good to have a rule about how much each monk should drink each day, but that rule can be changed depending on local circumstances. There is a flexibility and humanity about Benedict’s monastic living which explains why the Rule of St Benedict became the dominant monastic rule within the Church. Photo Credit: Luis Feliciano on Unsplash In the Lay Community of St Benedict, members don’t pretend to be monks or nuns, but we do claim to be inspired by the Rule of St Benedict and by the lived example of those who live in Benedictine monasteries and abbeys today. In the Promise we make when we become members or renew our membership, we pledge to live a Christian life ‘in ways in which my circumstances allow’. Like St Benedict in the Rule, we recognise that life is different for all of us. By coming together in community we can explore our spirituality with others for whom the Christian life is important. As St Benedict writes in the Prologue, by journeying together, ‘as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God’s commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love’. In this year, when we celebrate 60 years of St Benedict being made patron of Europe, we hope that the Lay Community of St Benedict can make a small contribution to the path that leads us to God. Alain Anderton 2025

The European project has, and will continue to have, a significant part to play in our lives. Though most people would consider it has some benefit, even those who voted to leave the EU, it is probable that many also think it is becoming a super state and an intolerant one at that.  Though it would never be said openly by most politicians, the Catholic Church is regarded as an enemy at worst and perhaps an outdated influence at best. The Church’s teaching on the nobility of the human person is curtailed by laws purporting to be upholding human rights and fairness.  This is all quite far from the prime movers concerned with the union of Europe after the last World War - they were politicians well versed in Catholic social and moral teaching. One founding father, Robert Schuman, has even been considered for canonization.   Of course, in our time politicians and bankers will determine the immediate future of the European States.  Whether the treaties and fiscal agreements will stand the test of time, who knows?  Treaties and agreements of one sort or another, have come and gone in the past, some are remembered, most are forgotten.  Generals too, have had a try at shaping Europe - sometimes by prolonged and bloody wars - their methods bring a sort of union, but one that can only last a few generations, for it is only an imposed facade.   Photo Credit: Christian Lue on Unsplash Even though the Church does not receive the recognition it deserves regarding its importance in the history of Europe, it has to be said that throughout the centuries of Europe’s recorded history the Catholic Church has been the greatest continual influence on its political, social and moral life.  The Church has moulded or at least affected the culture of every present-day European state.   However, if one had to choose one figure who most shaped Europe it would not be a Caesar or a Napoleon, or a Wellington or a Bismarck, or even a Pope, nor even a Jean-Claude Juncker, presently President of the European Commission, or a Chancellor of Germany like Angela Merkel, but Benedict of Nursia. Saint Benedict is remembered by the Universal  Church - with the title of Patron of Europe.   Photo Credit: Nick Castelli on Unsplash When darkness seemed to be spreading over our continent after the fall of the Roman Empire, Benedict's Rule brought the light of a new dawn.  Simply put, it offered peace and stability.  Benedict's vision created a civilized society where the ordered daily rhythm of prayer and work conquered the deadly infections that circulated in the society of his time. And more than that, the monasteries that followed Benedict's Rule were like the seeds of a new plant - they were planted in the soil of Europe and they took root.  Through them the Kingdom of God spread.  The life of monks and nuns highlights and emphasises those things that are essential for all Christian life. Monks and nuns are not necessarily any better than other Christians, but because of our public commitment to a Christian way of life in a community, we are a reminder of that commitment made by all Christians through Baptism and Confirmation, which creates the community which is the Body of Christ.   Photo Credit: Plastic Lines on Unsplash The lives of monks are centred around prayer and the service to others, which is work – these are the elements that unite us to God and to each other. Prayer  - the Work of God, and work  - the service of sacrificial love.  This form of unity, centred on our Creator, leads to the Peace that Christ offers. It nurtures and dignifies the human person.  In this regard, monasticism is as important today as it was centuries ago – perhaps even more so in one form or another.   At a time when so much in our society seeks, unwittingly or even deliberately, to undermine our humanity, we should indeed look to Saint Benedict and seek to reinvigorate his vision. In the words of Saint Benedict: ‘Let us then prefer nothing whatever to Christ that He may bring us to life everlasting!’ Photo Credit: Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash Abbot David Charlesworth 2025

St. Benedict of Nursia (ca. 480-ca 547), is considered the father of “western monasticism” and the author of the “The Rule,” a simple set of guidelines ordering how monks should live. He is considered by the Benedictines as their founder and guide under the motto “Ora Et Labora” (“pray and work”). In 1964 Pope Paul VI, in his Apostolic Letter “Pacis Nuntius” (Messenger of Peace), said it was a fitting time to reflect upon Europe’s common cultural heritage with respect to St. Benedict, the “heavenly patron saint of the whole of Europe,” who “inspired in the peoples of Europe that loving care of order and justice that forms the foundation of true society.”  “Benedict changed the world through the cross, the book and the plough”. He explains further: Photo Credit: Cbrennan Poole on Unsplash "For by cross, by book, by plough, he brought Christian civil culture, especially by himself and by his sons, to the peoples who inhabit the Mediterranean Sea to Scandinavia, from Ireland to the open lands of Poland. By the cross, that is, by the law of Jesus Christ, he strengthened and increased the institutions of private and public life. It is also helpful to remember that "by the work of God", or by a certain and constant method of prayer, he taught that divine worship is of the utmost importance in human society.” Pope Paul VI asserts that St Benedict cemented that spiritual unity of Europe, by which indeed nations, diverse in language, race, and talent, felt themselves to be one people of God. "By the book, or the cult of genius, the same venerable patriarch, from whom so many monasteries derived their name and vigor, preserved with diligent care the ancient monuments of literature, when liberal disciplines and arts were being overshadowed by darkness, and transmitted them to posterity, and diligently cultivated doctrines. Finally, with the plough, or by the rustic means, and with other aids, he transformed vast and rugged places into fertile fields of crops and lovely gardens; and by joining the crafts to prayers, according to those words "pray and labour", he added excellence to human work". I similarly feel it is a fitting time now to review the significance of The Rule and St Benedict in our world today. Although there is much to be thankful for, over the last 10 years there does seem to be a gradual decline geographically, politically, economically, socially, morally and spiritually. Despite the Iron Curtain coming down and the breakup of the USSR so dramatically, populism and nationalism are taking hold in the western democracies. Despite the enlarged European Union, Brexit has caused a threat to the strength of Europe. Economic challenges are causing our democracies to appear weak, the family unit is now more complex, and the churches have shown their vulnerabilities. There is war again in Europe and loss of respect for human life, through changes in our laws. Photo Credit: Kayle Kaupanger on Unsplash Looking to the future, one role for Lay Benedictines in a less Christian world, would be to live in community under The Rule of St Benedict. This might be either together or closely located, supporting parishes and churches through regular prayer, offices and pastoral and evangelical outreach with the charisms - much needed in the world of “Obedience, conversion of life and stability.” “The cross, the book and the plough” might become the framework of hubs of prayer and sacrificial service, study and the thirst for knowledge, care for creation and oases of sustainability. Photo Credit: Julie Blake Edison on Unsplash Chris Walker 2025

I remember as a young adult being amazed by my first encounters with St Benedict and the Rule he wrote.  I was visiting Worth Abbey in Sussex, and it seemed hard to understand why monks would choose to be in a church praying and singing at a quarter to seven in the morning.  What kind of early morning madness was this? About four decades later, I am still amazed by St Benedict and the Rule, but not quite in the same way that my young adult self was.  Over the years I have had very many early morning starts myself for work, often with tricky journeys to get there. So what impressed my young adult mind as an early start seems not now to be as remarkable as I thought then. Photo Credit: David Mao on Unsplash So where does my enduring amazement for St Benedict and the Rule come from, if not in getting up early?  From my reading and reflection, I have taken a sense of balance that Benedictines seek between prayer, work and community.  Each of these elements needs attention, but added together they can give us more:  deeper roots and an overall coherence.  As the mathematical side of my brain might put it, 1 + 1 + 1 can be more than 3. Over the years, my life has moved through different stages, at various times focussing on building family relationships, studying for exams, working hard at work, then working even harder at work, before retiring from paid work altogether.  For me the balance of prayer / work / community has shifted in response to these stages, with elements sometimes getting very squeezed indeed.  Photo Credit: Anna Dziubinska on Unsplash I can imagine (I hope) St Benedict listening with a patient smile if I were explaining all this to him.  I suspect that he knew that his Rule, with its reasonable and encouraging tone, talking about nothing harsh or burdensome, was deceptively simple.  What might look like a Rule for beginners, turns out to be pretty useful for a range of folks over the ages.  Thank you St Benedict.  Congratulations on your 60 years as patron of Europe, and on nearly 1500 years since you founded the monastery at Monte Cassino.  Balancing prayer, work and community: a simple, amazing and lasting idea. Simona Hantakova on Unsplash Patrick Cleary 2025

It is an honour to be invited to contribute to the blog for this week celebrating the impact and legacy of St Benedict patron of Europe. I am an Anglican priest in Rochester Diocese and oblate of St Mary’s Abbey West Malling. I’ve sought to live a Benedictine spirituality for over 20 years ago and have found it to be a way of living a Christ-centred life. I am responsible for the lay formation in Rochester Diocese and have a passion for lay ministry, having been a lay minister my self for 20 years before being ordained. It is important that you know this, so you have the context from which I am writing. Kent is a transient county. Historically people coming from mainland Europe landed in Kent and then journeyed on through England. Christian tradition influenced by Benedict arrived in England through this route. Gundulf, originally a monk at Bec migrated to become Bishop of Rochester and prior of the cathedral Benedictine community. He established the original Benedictine community of nuns at Malling Abbey, and ties between the two remain strong. Rochester Cathedral retains its Benedictine foundation, which is central to the way in which it seeks to witness and serve today. Malling Abbey remains a place of deep prayer and welcome. The St Benedict’s Centre in its grounds is a place where ordinands and lay ministers spend time in learning and formation - Benedict continues to shape the spirituality of our church leaders. Photo Credit: Chad Greiter on Unsplash Kent is a transient community. Today high numbers of migrants attempt to make the crossing to Dover despite all the preventions that are in place. Kent can feel very welcoming and also dream-dashingly hostile. Current political shifting leans toward the latter. What might Benedict’s message be for this out-post of Europe, a country conflicted within itself about its relationship with the mainland following Brexit, and in the light of constant transiency? I am reminded that Benedict quietly set about recalibrating his life in accordance with Christ, and through his example drew others to do the same. The movement of monastic living grew and his influence spread, satisfying a deep societal desire for more than infighting, greed, economic success and culture wars between communities. Benedict offered a different lifestyle that was attractive because it reached where nothing temporal could reach. It touched the soul. ‘Listen my child to the voice of a master who loves you’ - hardly the propaganda slogan that would win election votes and convince vying communities to peaceful living, but it hit deep and continues to hit deep today. Photo Credit: Umesh Soni on Unsplash Our souls, individually and corporately are crying out to be heard and to hear. In all the factionalism we read about, see and perhaps are even part of, there is a deeper cry to belong well with one another. Benedict offers the Christ-way which meets that need. Benedict still invites us to listen, not to him but to Christ. Benedict offers a lifestyle response that recalibrates what it means to be human in relationship with God, one another and ourselves held in a balance of worship and work, interrelated - not compartmentalised. In a world where pendulums swing from one fad to the next, one plan to the next, one policy to the next, Benedict offers a still point where work, rest and leisure interrelate in compatible harmony around worship. Perhaps the most significant offering Benedict might present to the Europe of today is the recognition that living with others who are different to ourselves is never easy, but is essential if we are truly to be the people we are created to be in relationship with one another. This is what makes us human, our diversity is what makes us united, not our similarities. Benedict’s monastic houses were not always places of calm, they were real homes where people kicked against the goad, ganged up against one another and battled with selfish desire against the common good. Stripping away individuality that judges the other in favour of the self is painful, but necessary if we are to bring our true selves into relationship with others. Photo Credit: Jed Villejo on Unsplash In the transiency of North Kent and two outer London boroughs, Rochester Diocese seeks to serve communities growing in diversity as people from across Europe and the world come to make this land home. We can choose to oppress and expel or we can choose the harder way of truly welcoming the giftedness of God found in the stranger. I suppose Kent will always be transient, the shape and infrastructure of the county is designed to make transiency easy. That is no excuse for not welcoming. Benedict stresses that each guest is to be welcomed as if welcoming Christ. In the Cathedral each day we pray that we may be true to our Benedictine tradition, that all will be welcomed and everyone valued. In transient living, communally and individually, stability in Christ, hospitality and the discipline of deep listening are Benedict’s wisdom offered for our part of Europe in our time and season. Reverend Canon Jane Winter 2025

I was intrigued when it was suggested that I might write a blog post on a quote from Pope Paul VI's Letter  Pacis Nuntius : 'Benedict changed the world through the cross, the book and the plough.' For Pope Paul, the three symbols of cross, book, and plough represented the key elements of the Benedictine contribution to European civilization. This quote reminded me of an earlier quote from Cardinal Newman's essay  The Mission of Saint Benedict , where he writes of the early Benedictines in this way: 'Silent men were observed about the country, or discovered in the forest, digging, clearing, and building; and other silent men, not seen, were sitting in the cold cloister, tiring their eyes and keeping their attention on the stretch, while they painfully copied and recopied the manuscripts which they had saved. There was no one who contended or cried out, or drew attention to what was going on, but by degrees the woody swamp became a hermitage, a religious house, a farm, an abbey, a village, a seminary, a school of learning and a city.' Photo Credit: Aaron Burden on Unsplash It is a wonderful piece of writing, and my eyes especially alighted on two images as I pondered in the spirit of an act of  lectio divina . The first was the phrase 'the woody swamp became'. What did it become, this woody swamp, but a litany of things, each possibly building on the other, and becoming ever deeper and richer? As I read it, I wondered about my own 'woody swamp'—not a physical place somewhere out there, but a spiritual place within. What might God be inviting me, inviting each one of us, to do during this St. Benedict's Week with our woody swamps? What fertile ground is waiting to be discovered beneath all the messiness of our lives, the things that we seek to hide, the things that are apparently useless, and yet could become interior hermitages, religious homes, schools of learning? Photo Credit: Simeon Jacobson on Unsplash The second phrase that drew my attention was 'silent men', all engaged in a range of activities that Pope Paul sums up in cross, book and plough. For me, the important word, though, is that of silence. It denotes something of the contemplative nature of the Benedictine life, something of that listening charism which is bound up with the vow of obedience. Obedience, with its Latin etymology of 'hearing forward'—a really rich image associated with submission to something bigger, something deeper, to God. Could this be the tool that we all need to help us clear our woody swamps? Might it be in the silence of prayer that we somehow are able to cooperate with a movement of the Spirit within, which clears the ground so that God might do a new work within us? I hope so. I want to believe so as I spend time most days in some form of silent meditation. So, happy St. Benedict's Week everyone! I hope that there is much to celebrate, but also space for silent men and women to begin to grow something new within and without, to the glory of God.   Photo Credit: James Morden on Unsplash Fr Mark Kenny 2025

In September 2023, I attended the International Oblates Congress in Rome at Sant’ Anselmo. The week included a visit to the monastery at Subiaco and St Benedict’s cave, the ‘Sacro Speco’, which deeply affected me. Before leaving Subiaco, I purchased a copy of St Gregory the Great’s short biography of St Benedict. He recounts an early miracle from the time when Benedict, then a young man, fled Rome with his old nurse (who is unnamed). They stopped at Affile on their way and while there, she borrowed a ceramic tray for cleaning wheat. It slipped off the table and broke in two. Benedict felt sorry for her and prayed that the tray would be mended. When he ended his prayer he noticed that the two pieces of the tray were joined together again. The miracle led to him becoming something of a local celebrity so he slipped away one night alone and fled to the lonely wilderness of Subiaco. When I read this legend on the plane on my return from Rome, the broken tray reminded me of some words of the Abbot Primate Gregory Polan in his address to us at the Congress. He spoke of the broken world we live in, broken on every level, not only through wars and human conflicts but also the brokenness of the individual: a world in need of reconciliation, healing and wholeness. He reminded us that as followers of St Benedict, we are called to pray for peace and reconciliation (just as Benedict prayed for the broken tray). Photo Credit: Colin Lloyd on Unsplash Moreover we are called to participate in Christ’s ministry of reconciliation. We are to be a healing presence to all who come to us, all who we encounter, through being a listening presence, by being attentive with a humble spirit. This is surely the profound depth of Benedictine hospitality and welcome. Abbot Gregory also pointed out that in order to be this healing presence, we of course have to be aware of our own brokenness. Each of us is a broken tray ourselves, after all. His words about our broken world were so relevant at that time as the war in Ukraine had been raging for over a year and only a few weeks’ later, hostilities between Israel and Palestine began and sadly continue. A year later, after the Congress of Abbots, our new Primate, Abbot Jeremias Schroeder in his newsletter highlighted the conflicts in the world and urged all monastic communities to pray for peace at a regular time in the day. Photo Credit: Samuel Martins on Unsplash For all of us who have committed ourselves to following the Holy Rule, St Benedict has not so much left us a legacy as a patrimony as he is our spiritual father. That patrimony is peace, a way to peace. ‘Seek peace and pursue it,’ he urges us. The peace we are seeking is the peace the world cannot give but only Jesus can. This is the core of St Benedict’s legacy over the last sixty years and indeed over the fifteen centuries before it. Often, sadly in the last six decades and in those centuries before them, conflict and turmoil have been prevalent. In the midst of this, St Benedict and his followers have created a sacred space of stillness, becoming ‘the still point in the turning world’ as described by T.S. Eliot in his poem ‘Burnt Norton’. They have been counter-cultural, an alternative, an answer even, in the midst of the turmoil. And so must we in our own broken world. In our own turbulent times we too must follow and strive for that ‘still point’ in our monasteries, homes and our own hearts. To allow the stillness of the Holy Spirit to hover and settle within us in the silence and to share that stillness with others. That silence too is counter-cultural in our world of noise and clamour as is our search for peace in a world of aggression and conflict. This is the legacy, the patrimony we have been given by our holy father Benedict. Photo Credit: Laura Ohlman on Unsplash Recently Pope Leo XIV has commented, ‘Peace is not a utopian ideal. It is a humble path made up of daily actions, woven with patience, courage, listening, and action." He might have been summarising the Holy Rule. He added ‘Today more than ever, peace requires our vigilant and creative presence.’ This is the legacy, the patrimony we have been given by our holy father Benedict. This is our charism and our challenge. To seek peace and pursue it, vigilantly, in every situation and to give that peace to whoever we encounter. Neil Zoladkiewicz Oblate of Ealing Abbey 2025 Neil is Chair of the UK Oblates Team: www.benedictine-oblates.net. Visit Neil’s blog: OBLATE: A Benedictine in the World at www. oblateblog.wordpress.com

Does St Benedict have a ‘word’ for us today? ‘Peace’ would certainly be one. War threatens the whole of Europe now, as the Cold War did in 1964 when Benedict was named Patron of Europe by Pope Paul VI. And as we know only too well, the threat of war is already a reality on the Eastern flank of our continent. St Benedict, pray for us and especially for Ukraine.But I would like to suggest another ‘word’ that Benedict might offer us: ‘Don’t listen!’ Yes, that’s right, ‘ don’t listen’ – it’s not a typo. We know of course that ‘Listen!’ is the first word of the Rule and underpins the whole of Benedictine spirituality. So what do I mean? Nowadays, we are assaulted by so many subtle voices, especially on the internet, many of them quite pernicious (though of course the internet can be a fantastic facilitator of sharing and learning as we are doing now). Even so, there are the voices of advertising, of influencers, there is peer pressure, much misinformation and not a few downright lies. We are persuaded to try this, to go there, to vote for him or her or them, to think as they do; in short, all that the Catholic philosopher, Alisdair MacIntyre who died on 21 May this year, described as ‘emotivism’ in his classic book After Virtue (1981). Photo Credit: Anastasiya Badun on Unsplash See link https://youtu.be/f8mqNt86l6g?si=cB21i3sPx--0A0EI  for more on MacIntyre’s work and the connections with St Benedict. Benedict, usually so measured and balanced, is strong in his denunciation of negative, harmful speech – putting such speech under a ‘perpetual ban in every place’ ( aeterna clausura , RB 6: 8). Here Benedict echoes his master, Jesus, who, when preparing his disciples for the challenges they would face after his death, spoke uncompromisingly: ‘Take care that no one misleads you...’ (Mark 13: 35) and ‘If anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Messiah...do not believe it’ (Mark 13: 21). In other words, ‘Don’t listen!’ It’s not a question of wearing impenetrable ear plugs or of hiding away from the ‘real’ world, but rather of exercising vigilance and discernment, or what the monastic tradition calls, ‘discretion’, about what we allow into our hearts – or, if you like, those we allow to be our influencers. The Rule gives us the means to develop highly sensitive antennae, sensors which can pick up the truth in any given situation and which allow us to choose the Gospel path. By exposing ourselves to the light of Christ the Word in our lectio and in the Divine office, we become attuned to that Word who is himself ‘Truth’ and who has promised us the Holy Spirit who will lead us into ‘all Truth’ (John 16: 13). For Truth is dynamic, not changing in essence but infinite as God is, and so capable of infinite expansion and development. Photo Credit: Abigail Zae on Unsplash That same Holy Spirit helps us to pray, opening our hearts ever more deeply to the divine light and drawing us into the life of the Trinity. Then, our Benedictine way gives us companions for the journey who keep us on track, and it gives us ‘ancestors’ in the spirit who have trodden the path before us: saints and a Tradition which embodies the Truth. Everything in the Rule is there to help strengthen our inner self so that we can discern God’s will and have the energy to follow it, whatever the prevailing climate in society may be. So, to adapt my opening words slightly, I think Benedict as Patron of Europe wants us today to be aware of all the currents of our times, and ‘to test everything and hold fast to what is good’ (1 Thess. 5:  21), not listening to voices that are negative or which lead to death. To close, some words of another Patron of Europe (surely they all work together!) St Catherine of Siena (1347-1380), who wanted to see in her daughters that same holy virtue of discretion: In the fire of his love, we know that God is powerful to give us what we ask, for he is highest Wisdom, who knows how to give and discern what we need. This is the kind of prayer through which we attain virtue and preserve in our souls the longing for it. What is the beginning of such a good? Discretion, the daughter of charity... That is why I said that I desire to see in you the holy virtue of discretion. I say no more. Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God.                                                          From a letter of St Catherine of Siena to Daniella of Orvieto Photo Credit: Sasha Freemind Sr Laurentia Johns, Stanbrook Abbey 2025

I seem to have reached an age where gathering with family and friends is prompted more often by funerals than weddings, baptisms, or any of life’s other milestone celebrations. One obvious difference between the funerals and the other celebrations is that the one we love is no longer there to share it with us, another is that, despite a belief in life eternal, it is often experienced as a part of ‘closure’ as much as a new beginning. Photo Credit: Panyawat Auitpol When asked by a friend recently whether we could do more as a community to prepare each other for dying, I was struck by the two edged nature of the question – to prepare ourselves for our own passing and to support each other when faced with the passing of someone we love. Having come close to dying from a sudden critical illness that left me and my family no time or space to ‘prepare’, the question of preparation and support is close to my heart. I carry an image of my life as a ‘wave-form’ pattern in the world - the breath of my spirit together with the body I have been gifted creating the wave of my life, rising, peaking and subsiding, before stepping back and returning home to God with all my stories, big and small. As my spirit heads home and the particles of my body disperse back into our material world, all my links and connections, memories and relationships will ripple out for a time as the fading energy of the life we shared. Photo Credit: Josh Marshall on Unsplash For me, the issue of preparation is three-fold: preparing for my bodily ending, preparing for my spirit’s onward travel and preparing others for my passing. One approach for our bodies is the ‘bucket list’ - ticking off the things I want to do before I die: a special experience, a place to visit, a commitment to telling those I love that I love them! And not leaving it too late. Or ‘future proofing’ - focused on health, fitness and shaping our living space to accommodate changing capacities. In the spirit landscape of my life there is another kind of preparation. Creating spaces where that in me which came from God is allowed to spend time reflecting on home, gazing back to the heart of where I came from. I notice the growing importance of quiet times and spaces in this part of my journey – the Holy Space of our Benedictine spirituality, epitomized in sitting alone in an empty church, reading the God-centered, question-filled poetry of R S Thomas. Preparing for our own or each other’s passing is rooted in being open to talking about it. Kevin Olson on Unsplash Encouraging people to think about and plan for their own funeral, whether they are well or sitting with a terminal diagnosis. I stay open to talking about how it was to lose my parents or others dear to me, and the joy of remembering them as a part of keeping their ripple alive in the world. I talk about the privilege of being present with loved ones as they passed, letting them know how we were holding them with open arms* until they were ready to step across into the arms of loved ones who had gone before. As an expression of our Benedictine community and service, I would welcome the chance to sit together in a space where the pain and practicalities of leaving this world meet our openness to the joy of the next, in support of each other in this place of endings and beginnings. If you think you might like to spend a day together exploring these themes then please let us know via an email to info@LCSB.uk and if there is sufficient interest, we can plan from there. Geoff O'Donoghue 2025 * Stephen Jenkinson: Griefwalker.