MONASTIC events
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ASIA LISTENING TO THE CRY OF THE POOR
[1]
by Armand Veilleux The fifteenth centenary of the birth of St. Benedict which had already given
rise to numerous meetings throughout the world,
also provided the occasion for the nuns and monks of Asia's great
Benedictine family to meet together at Kandy, the hill capital
of Sri Lanka (Ceylon), from the 18th to the 24th
August 1980. The Conference which continued along
the lines of research and dialogue begun at Bangkok (1968) and
resumed at Bangalore (1973), brought together about seventy monks
and nuns representing 28 communities of a dozen Asian countries,
from Ceylon and India to Japan and the Philippines. Adding to their number the staff of the AIM and some invited guests from East
and West, the total figure was around
eighty participants. The
meeting was presided over by Dom Viktor Dammertz, Primate of the
Benedictine Confederation, and Dom Simone Tonini, Abbot General
of the Benedictine-Sylvestrine Congregation, was also present.
Dom Ambrose Southey, Abbot General of the O.C.S.O., was
expected to act as co-president as he did for the Abidjan Conference
of 1979, but was unable
to come because of his Order's impending General Chapter. A
joyful welcome was accorded to
some new foundations, created since the Bangalore Conference,
from India and Malaysia in particular. At the same time, much
sadness was felt at the absence of monks from Kep in Cambodia,
whose community was liquidated by the war, thus bringing twenty-five
years of Cambodian monastic life to a close. This community
had been founded in Vietnam in 1950 and transferred to Cambodia
in 1952. In 1970 the Vietnamese
monks were compelled to leave, and in 1975 one European monk was
executed and the other expelled.
The last three' Cambodian monks died as witnesses to their
faith and their monastic life in 1979. Henceforth, the same cloak of silence which
covered the Church in Cambodia fell over Christian monasticism
there too. Our sisters and brothers of Vietnam were not
able to come to Kandy, yet we know that they are faithfully and
courageously upholding their monastic commitment, however difficult
their circumstances. With generosity they have accepted being deprived
of practically everything and having to partake in the stringent
life of their own people by working up to eight hours a day in
the paddy-fields. One community of nuns from amongst them has
managed to continue its
existence as a community because, long before the change of regime,. they had relinquished their grand monastery for a poor village
life,' in complete solidarity
with the inhabitants there. The
Communists had in the sisters' life a practical example of their
own ideal of sharing. - Although none could come from Vietnam, still
we had the presence with us of one Vietnamese nun, living at the
moment in Africa. The countries with the
largest numerical representation were India (nearly twenty delegates)
and Sri Lanka, one of the fields of work of t},a Sylvestrine monks, many of whom were able to attend our
meeting. The Sylvestrines
have exercised an apostolic ministry in Sri Lanka since 1845,
in parishes, colleges etc... One of their number,
the Rt. Rev. Leo Nannayakkara,. bishop of Badulla,
tools an active and much
appreciated, part in our discussions.
To the Prior of Monte Fano monastery (adjoining the Kandy
National Seminary where our sessions took place) and his com-munity
must go the credit for the warm hospitality received by all the
participants, as well as for the thoughtful efficiency with which
practical arrangements were carried out.
Whereas the Sri Lanka Sylvestrines provide an example of
the active dimension of Benedictine life; there were several Indian
communities-in particular the Sisters of Shanti Nilayam, Father
Francis Acharya's community from Kurisumala in Kerala, and Father Bede Griffiths'
ashram at Shantivanam----belonging
to the more distinctly contemplative tradition. The Cistercian participation
was weaker numerically than at Bangkok or at Bangalore. The absence of the many flourishing Japanese
communities was particularly deplored.
However, responding to the summons were Dom Joseph Murphy
of Southern Star (Kopua, New Zealand) and Dom Francis Harjawiyata
of Rawa Seneng (Indonesia),.as indeed they have done each time that a Conference in Asia
has been organized by the AIM. Dom
Benedict Chao of Lantao (Hong Kong) had also accepted the
invitation and confirmed his acceptance, but had been prevented
at the last minute by an unforeseen occurrence. The General Theme: detachment, poverty and sharing The majority of Asian
countries suffer particularly from the scourge of poverty and
destitution, those shameful sores on our contemporary world from
which no corner of the earth is totally exempt.
Even the economically most highly developed countries,
like Japan, are not altogether exempt from the other kinds of
poverty known to the affluent West-the absence of joy, of family
affection and of spiritual ideals. Hence it is not surprising that. the AIM's consultations
should have resulted in the choice of poverty as subject of the Kandy Conference. Besides, this is a subject of the first importance
for Asian traditional religions, particularly for Hinduism and
Buddhism, though these speak more readily of "detachment"
or of "nonattachment". In fact, the specific theme decided upon by
Asian monastic superiors at their meeting in Rome for the Benedictine
Abbots' Congress in 1977 was: "Non-attachment, poverty and
sharing". The word 'poverty" is charged with ambiguity. When we use it in.our religious
jargon it is to describe something completely different from what
the common mortal describes as "poverty".
There is, in reality, a poverty which is negative, dehumanizing
and degrading. This kind
is the fruit o€ the oppression and the egoism of a minority, and
Christians together with the rest o€ mankind have a duty to deliver
its victims from it. This degrading form of poverty is neither uniquely
material nor limited just to.
Third World countries. On
the other hand, there is a positive kind of poverty-evangelical
poverty as practiced by Jesus of Nazareth, to which he summons
us all. Evangelical poverty is primarily an attitude
of the heart, one of detachment with regard to everything which
is not God. It is a liberation from all the enslavements
of the senses, the heart or the spirit. All the same, it does not have a disincarnate
existence, capable of dwelling in the heart without any practical
dispossession from material, affective or intellectual wealth. The ambiguous nature of the concept of poverty
was one of the first things to emerge from the discussions of
our Asian brothers and sisters at Kandy.
There were some-though having no revolutionary or activist
background or leanings-who asserted with a forcefulness springing
from the heart and from long meditative experience, that it is
neither valid nor possible to live out evangelical poverty whilst
disassociating oneself from the very
tangible poverty of those around us.
When the Western monastic Orders arrived in Asia they usually settled in
rural areas. Despite their
praiseworthy sacrifices and individual goodwill they imported
a life style there which was nearer to European standards than
to those of the inhabitants, with the effect that a novice entering
such a monastery is not necessarily brought to detachment of heart
by the' monastic context, since it may represent for him an actual
material and social upgrading. Most of these communities have set up various
services for the welfare of the local people and have labored
to good effect for the betterment of surrounding conditions of
life, especially in the fields of agricultural techniques and
of education. Yet there
are several-at all, events,
some-who now feel there is a certain ambiguity in all this, since, in all such achievements, we ourselves
remain part of the rich and privileged minority section of the
population instead of being of the eighty: per cent who, in some
countries, live below the poverty line.
Obviously, there is no easy, answer to such
questions, but the problem remains. It was the
outstanding merit of the Kandy meeting-and a sign of the great maturity of Asian monasticism-that such
questions could be vigorously exposed and calmly considered by
the region's monastics without provoking any defensive reactions. A not inconsiderable number of Asian monks and' nuns are these days feeling the call to
share in their own people's poverty,
through adopting a way of life similar to theirs.
And yet there is a gradual awareness that such a sharing
is not enough. Along with the conversion of' the heart, it is equally important
that the socio-political structures which
engender and maintain poverty in every corner of the globe
should them - selves be transformed and converted. In which case the evangelical poverty being
lived out genuinely by Christians all over the world may then
become the instrument of profound socio-political changes.
To carry this out it is
necessary to form a united front. It is within this context
that our Asian brothers and sisters addressed an appeal-indeed
a cry-to their brothers and sisters in richer countries.
The stark poverty of Asian countries stems in large measure
from the interference of the colonizing (Christian!) countries
of. the West who destroyed
the ecological balance based on centuries-old nutrition habits
and agricultural techniques to favor instead the setting up mono-cultures
which would benefit the West.
Nowadays this wretched state is maintained and reinforced
by the disequilibrium of the international economic system/ which
permits rich countries to become ever richer, and which upholds'
their high standard of living through keeping Third World countries
in economic dependence. Monks
and nuns of rich countries must become conscious that the sub-human
wretchedness of hundreds of millions of human beings is the price
paid for the comfort and benefits given them by their own society.
What can be done? Violent revolutions often end up transforming
yesterday's oppressed into today's oppressors.
Only one genuine solution remains for humanity-to apply
an abrupt braking action to the race for material goods and comfort,
and to make a free choice of a strict simplicity of life--in other
words, to strive that everyone should agree to live simply
in order that each one may simply live. The challenge to monks, and to every Christian,
is to live evangelical poverty in such a genuine and contagious
fashion that the structures of social relations will be transformed
by it. Voluntarily assumed poverty is the political strategy open
to Christians at this end of the twentieth century--and perhaps
it is also their last chance of demonstrating their credibility.
Whether from the Orient or the Occident, monastics who claim to
have left everything in order to follow Christ find themselves
united in facing up to this challenge and in bearing this heavy
responsibility. All of these questions
were raised from the very first day of the conference, during
the discussions on the subsidiary topic of "Poverty in Christianity",
which formed a sort of general introduction to the conference
theme. This subject was presented by Father Francis
Acharya of Kurisumala, a former Cistercian monk of Scourmont
in Belgium who went out to India in 1955 to join rather Monchanin
and Father. Le Saux (Abhishiktananda), and who soon after,
together with Father Bede Griffiths, founded the monastery of
Kurisumala in Kerala. After
having described the radical detachment to which we are called
by both the Old and the New Testaments, as also by the example
of the Fathers of Christian monasticism, Father Francis proposed
the following question to the discussion groups: "Does our
monastic life, in the way in which we live it, lead us to detachment?"
Such was the incisive question which led to the heart searching
described in the preceding paragraphs. The second day of our meeting was dedicated
to "Poverty in non-Christian religions"; and the last
three days to the following subjects: "Poverty and life-style",
"Poverty and socio-economic context", and, finally,
"Poverty and Prayer". Poverty and non-Christian religions During the latter years. of his life, Thomas
Merton was fascinated by the great spiritual riches to be found
in the Oriental religious traditions, particularly in Buddhism.
His presence at the Bangkok Congress (1968), where he was
called back to God, helped to give a dimension of interreligious
dialogue to that Christian monastic meeting.
This feature was further emphasized at the Bangalore Congress
(1973), at. which several representatives
of Hinduism and Buddhism participated. A short while later, Cardinal Pignedoli, president
of the Roman Secretariat for dialogue with non-Christians, wrote
to the Abbot Primate of the Benedictine Confederation to ask that monks should assume a leading role in the dialogue between
Christianity and the great religions of the Orient, given the
fact that monasticism is one dimension that Christianity has in
common with nearly everyone of them.
After consulting with the Abbot General of the O.C.S.O.,
the then Abbot Primate, Dom Rembert Weakland, asked the AIM to
assume this responsibility. Two
bodies were subsequently created with this aim in view, the first
in America, the North American
Board for East-West Dialogue (NABEWD), and the other shortly
afterwards in. Europe, the Dialogue
Inter-Monastères (DIM). There has been at times
a certain feeling of unease on this subject, within the AIM's
Management Board, far some
of its members felt that activities relating to inter-religious
dialogue lay beyond the AIM's field of competence.
The Abbot Primate devoted an important section of his opening
speech at the Kandy Conference to this topic, offering his unreserved
encouragement to the AIM as well as to NABEWD and DIM.
He nevertheless emphasized that the monastic aspect of
this dialogue should be concentrated upon, that is to say, dialogue
between Christian monks and non-Christian monks. There are many reasons justifying this restriction,
but one has to remark all the same, that whereas it is relatively
easy in Christianity (at least the Western kind) to distinguish
between what is monastic and what is not, this is
much less so for the great religions of Asia, especially
for Buddhism which is essentially monastic.
And what about Islam, where at present there are no monks,
but which has known them in the past, and where the mystical tradition
called Sufism has many points of contact
with monastic spirituality? The Abbot Primate further reminded
the nuns and monks of Asia who live in contact with these great
religious traditions, that the responsibility
for inter-religious dialogue is first of all incumbent upon them,
for American and European groups must here play a subsidiary
role. During the second
day of the Kandy meeting we applied ourselves to listening to
our non-Christian brothers, to hearing.
what a
Hindu, a Buddhist. and a Moslem had to
say to us about the understanding of poverty in their respective
religious traditions. The
Venerable Anuruddha Thera, Buddhist professor at Kelaniya University,
was able to come for only this one day, but the Hindu representative,
Swami Siddhinathananda, of Sri Ramakrishna Ashram, Trichur in
Kerala, together with the Islamic expert, Professor Jaffar Ali
of Bangalore, shared in our discussions throughout the whole of
the conference. They won everybody's hearts with their modesty
and sincerity. Most of
the great Oriental teachers whom one has the opportunity of meeting
in Europe and America seem incapable of establishing any relationship
other than that of master to disciples; hence I was personally
very touched by the simple way in which Swami Siddhinathanandaji
and Jaffar Ali joined in the discussion groups just like all the
other participants. Although
Hindus and Buddhists had been present at Bangkok and Bangalore,
it was the first time that a representative of Islam had taken
part in our debates. (Though it must be added that
a Moslem had been invited to Bangalore, but was prevented from
coming at the last moment).
This presence was all the more significant in that we are
today witnessing throughout the world, ari awakening of Islam---one
that is deeply religious, and which one must be careful not to
confuse with the fanaticism of a Khomeini or a Ghadaffi. The Christian monk cannot but be challenged
by the radicalism with which Hindu sannyasis
and Buddhist bikkus
practice detachment from all material things, and he is thereby
confirmed in his struggle to reach a more profound purity of heart. As for Islam, whilst it may reject monasticism
and regard poverty as above all a cancer from which society has
to be delivered, yet it has always harbored individuals who have
chosen voluntary poverty, and exercised a considerable influence
upon the people and their leaders.
Professor Jaffar Ali was able also to give us a perception
of Islam's understanding of humanity as one great family belonging
to God. Poverty and life style This subject was presented
by Father Francis Harjawiyata, Cistercian abbot of Rawa Seneng
in Indonesia, in a brief and incisive talk wherein a series of
practical questions was raised, suitable for constituting the
programme of several General Chapters. Father Francis began with the principle that
monastic poverty and life style are outward expressions o£ a deeper
reality in the monk's heart; a desire flowing from the Spirit,
impelling him towards renunciation of self and o€ everything else
for the sake of seeking God, following in the footsteps of Christ.
This profound desire was translated in the sixth century
by Benedict of Nursia into concrete terms, as a structure for
daily fife. As this Benedictine
life structure has been molded by Western tradition and transported
into Asia in the period of monastic implantation, it comprises
many elements making true community poverty difficult, in a Third
World context. To quote
some of the questions asked by Father Francis: Should we maintain
coenobitism as the principal form of monastic life, accepting
the eremitical life only in exceptional cases, or should we create
a larger place for the eremitical or semieremitical life? Should
there be a separate room for each community activity, where people
meet just for a few hours (or even a few minutes) a day, or could
we not entertain the possibility of multi-purpose rooms, as they
exist among the poor of our region and also in some non-Christian
monasteries? There were many other questions like these; however,
more than one of the Benedictines commented that the Cistercians
were more directly concerned by them; for several of the suggested
adaptations were already quite common amongst Asian Benedictines,
for instance the existence of "annex" houses. However, our questioning
has to go beyond all these practical details. The usual attitude consists of starting from
the present context of our traditional Benedictine life to ask
ourselves how it is possible to live it according to the ideal
of poverty. Should not the right attitude be rather to begin
from the actual material and cultural situation wherein we find
ourselves, and then to ask ourselves what form of Christian monastic
life may be lived in such a context? Father Francis framed the
question like this: Which monasticism do we represent? Christian
or Benedictine?-and answered it: In fact, we represent both.
Or, more exactly, we represent Christian monasticism in
its Benedictine form. Nevertheless, he continued, here lies the crucial
question! In what measure is the Benedictine specification essential
to us? Are we under an obligation to maintain the Benedictine
form of our Christian monasticism? Or is it more important for
us rather to concentrate our attention on the Christian dimension
of our monastic life? In other words, is Benedictine monasticism
for us a primary value which has to be carefully kept intact?
Or is it rather one particular form of Christian monasticism which
has to be judiciously acculturated? In the interests of acculturation,
are we to be permitted to abandon certain main elements of Benedictine
life, so as to discover a form of Christian monasticism more in
tune with the religious sensibilities of the local culture? Obviously, altogether
plain and precise answers cannot easily be given to such questions. It was remarkable, all the same, with what calmness
one was able to debate them, both in the discussion groups and
in the full assembly. Indeed,
the problem of acculturation is not peculiar to Asia, but is experienced
just as keenly in Africa. Yet
over here it bears a new aspect, for whereas traditional African
cultures have never known organized monasticism, in Asia monastic
traditions are very much alive and well, going back in history
to six centuries before Christ, for Jainism and Buddhism, and
nearly two millenniums before Christ for Hinduism. The adoption of local customs within a European
monastic system is never easy.
It is significant to note that those few monasteries which
have achieved the most far-reaching measures of acculturation
do not belong to the great international Orders.
One difficulty of acculturation stems from the rapid evolution
of customs, doubtless through the influence of the West, but also
through other deeper causes. For
this reason, young people often show profound disappointment if
given the impression that they are required to return to the past
or to put a brake on their society's evolution.
One superior (European) mentioned how, in their monastery
in Japan, they had introduced some years ago the traditional custom
of sitting on mats on the floor during chapel prayers, but that
young Japanese of the present generation are incapable of doing
this, having been used to chairs ever since childhood. In reality, the true work of acculturation has
to go much deeper. It is indeed certain that the less overloaded
community life is with elements foreign to local usage, the fewer
psychological obstacles there will be for the novices to overcome,
and the more chance they will have of adapting to the life and
persevering in it. This is why indigenous foundations sometimes
receive more vocations than those coming from outside, or those
under the control of foreigners.
But it is also quite as certain that
the essential contribution made to monasticism by the cultures
of Asia and Africa must proceed from a different level than
that of diet, clothing, musical instruments or whatever. It must
come from the level of religious experience itself, and be rooted
in an originality of vision concerning God, man and the cosmos,
and their subsisting relations. In most Asian countries
there is a Christian monastic presence which is fervent, or at
any rate, very much alive. Yet
it does not seem to me all the same that one could speak about
a Christian monasticism proper to Asia-or one that is Indian,
Korean, Indonesian etc....
Should this surprise us? After more than a century of monastic
presence in North America, is. there yet a monasticism
truly American or truly Canadian?-though of course there is an
American and a Canadian way. of living the European monasticism transplanted there a century
ago. Then again, is the
originally mediaeval monasticism which has been maintained in
Europe up until the present day, or which was restored there a
century ago, much more adapted to the religious sensibilities
or the spiritual needs of the majority of today's young Europeans
than it is to those of young Sri Lankans or young Japanese? It
is my personal conviction that in order to assimilate the mental
categories, the language, customs and the Weltanschauung which still constitute the vehicle of monastic tradition in the
West, a young European or young American of today has to be deculturalized
and let himself be assimilated into a culture that is strange
to him, just like a young African or young Asian.
The only difference is that, in the first instance, the
gulf to be bridged is probably narrower.
It is true also that such a cultural migration, with the
hint of the esoteric that it contains, has a more alluring quality
in a society convinced of its own solidity and superiority than
in one of those societies having to worry about losing or about
retrieving its own identity. Simultaneously with
this necessary and praiseworthy effort to preserve, sometimes
to rediscover, the national cultural traditions, we are also witnessing
a profound transformation of local cultures, all of which, throughout
the world, are disintegrating as highly structured systems of
traditions, beliefs, rituals and moral principles which formerly
gave a clear direction to life. At the same time a new, universal culture is
emerging the -world over-by which expression I mean a new level
of consciousness and a new manner of "being human",
nothing to do with the sale in every continent of Coca-Cola or
Sony equipment, nor with. any other form of export
of occidental or oriental "ways of life". In the face of this new cultural context, I
do indeed wonder whether the concern for developing an
Asian or African monasticism, like that for creating Indian,
African, Latin American or whatever Churches, is not out of date
in terms of historic evolution. To me it seems that today's great challenge
is rather that each should make its own original
contribution to the creating of a new, universal Christian
consciousness, and to the developing of a monasticism of multiple
aspect, rooted in this new Christian consciousness now being
born. To attain this end,
it is vital that monks of every continent and nation make a communication
in depth with the profoundest spiritual traditions of their people. Poverty and the Socio-economic Context The subject of Poverty and
the Socio-economic Context was introduced by Father
Aloysius Pieris, Sri Lankan Jesuit and lecturer at the Buddhist
University of Colombo, director also of a centre for dialogue
between Christians and Buddhists, and of a magazine entitled "Dialogue",
published in Colombo. Father Pieris restated in a more eloquent and
striking fashion the distinctions already described between positive
and negative poverty, and between the various aspects of evangelical
poverty: its ascetical dimension and that of solidarity
and sharing; also its socio-political responsibilities. He underlined the importance of the eternal
struggle between Abba
(God the loving Father of every man) and Mammon. Poverty as a lack of what is necessary to man
in order to live with dignity is an evil, objectively speaking---the
fruit of sinfulness. But
when someone adopts. poverty voluntarily, after Christ's example, as a life style,
then by this very action he affirms his stand for God and against Mammon.
Consequently, even in its ascetical dimension (that of
liberating the heart so as to attach it to God), evangelical poverty
necessarily contains an element of denunciation-of everything
which is the cult of Mammon, hence of the abuse of wealth and
the oppression which generates poverty.
In its solidarity and sharing aspect, poverty should not
be regarded as a state or condition deserving of charity,
upon which one can get rid. of one's surplus, but as a call to an act of pure justice by
which one distributes fairly amongst the children of God the good
things received from the Father.
Was it not declared by the Fathers of the Church, long
before Gandhi, that everything we possess which is not necessary
to us at this moment belongs not to us but to the poor? So that
when social structures generate or maintain a state of poverty,
the person who has opted for God and not Mammon-has
a duty to denounce them. Thus the political facet of evangelical poverty
is discerned as a plain consequence of the two other aspects. Just as there is a positive
and a negative poverty, the same is true concerning religiosity. The negative is every form of religiosity which
is ,a compromise with money or power,
and which by that very 'fact becomes a
force for subjection and oppression.
The positive is every form of.
religiosity which is free of Mammon and -which liberates. In
Asia, Christianity's great problem is that of credibility. Thus, it is important that the Church should
relearn how to effect prophetic actions. This is the place of
the monastic calling. The
monk must know how to create a synthesis of the positive aspect
of poverty with the positive and liberating aspect-of
religiosity. As did Jesus
at his first baptism in the
Jordan and his second baptism on Calvary, we shall find and we
shall demonstrate our identity in prophetic action. Poverty and Prayer The Kandy monastic conference
did not start from abstract principles in order to reach practical
conclusions. It did things the other way round.
The participants let themselves be
challenged, first of all, by the poverty of the hundreds of millions
of Asians living below the poverty line.
They then had to ask themselves what relationship there
was between this most real poverty and their own vow of poverty.
This led them to envisage a more complete transformation
of their own life style. Such a process inevitably brought them to embark
upon contemplation, whence emerges a right vision of the reality
in its entirety, and the road to which is genuine detachment.
Here a process may be recognized which was noticeable more than
once in Latin America, for there it was realized that commitment
in action to the liberation of the oppressed, if carried to its
logical conclusion, leads us to contemplative prayer. The subject of Poverty and Prayer was dealt with by a son of the West
one who received his Benedictine training in England but who has
lived twenty-five years in India. He
was co-founder of Kurisumala with Father Francis Acharya, and
has led the Shantivanam ashram since 1968.
Father Bede Griffiths has profoundly assimilated India's
contemplative soul, and his is one of the most respected voices
these days an the theme of prayer. Prayer -- or contemplation
-- is a receptive attitude of openness towards God. This openness, this expectant state of the heart;
is possible according to the measure in which the heart is free
in regard to material factors, the family, social status and above
all, the "ego". While
reminding us of these great and essential truths, Father Bede's
talk also had a more practical character.
In the preceding days, much had been said about simplicity
of life and acculturation. Father Bede wished to offer some examples of
the adaptation of monastic structures to India's spiritual tradition,
with the aim of encouraging greater detachment of heart and thus
greater purity of prayer. Among
other things, he spoke of the eremitical life, about wandering
monks, of life in an ashram, of meditation, and of liturgical life more adapted to the
local culture. In the West these days,
we are witnessing a certain revival of the eremitical life. Would it not be advisable also to encourage
its development in Asia, where for thousands of years it has been
the primary and most normal form of monasticism? It is quite simple
for a hermit to live a radical form of poverty which however quickly
becomes impractical for a group, especially for a large group.
As in Celtic monastic tradition, Hinduism and Buddhism
since the earliest times have retained the tradition of wandering
monks, whom we must be careful not to confuse with the gyrovagi
so roundly condemned by St. Benedict. Like Christ, the wandering monk has nowhere
to lay his head. All he
possesses is his clothing and the bowl with which he begs.
for his daily food. He will stop for a time in a monastery only
during the period of the monsoon. The laws of Manu ordain that
a sannyasi may own neither hearth nor home
(thus, no family), and must ask for food only after the householder
has finished his own meal. In
contrast to the cenobite, who enjoys great material security,
the sannyasi exists in an extreme insecurity, which teaches
hint to rely entirely upon Providence.
This insecurity fashions in his heart an attitude of expectancy
and of receptivity, allowing God to enter therein. This kind of
wandering monk existence is doubtless quite different from the
Benedictine life, yet it seems to be a form of Christian monasticism
which is necessary to Asia; alongside the more coenobitic form. The other element which
Christian monasticism could well adopt with profit from Hindu
tradition is the ashram. When,
in western tradition, one wishes to make a monastic foundation,
one begins by collecting the money; next one buys some ground,
constructs buildings: and sets up a farm or other enterprise to
make sure of the income. After this one gets a community
together, o€ monks or nuns who come to live on these premises
and establish the regular life there. An ashram in India
comes to birth in 'quite a different way.
It originates with a man of God, a
sannyasi or wandering monk, who goes from village to village
without any belongings. He comes to sit in the village temple
or in front of the house of a person who has offered him shelter.
He accepts what food is given him and will perhaps, in
the evening, talk with people who gather round him. One day some
of these persons will ask permission to remain with him for a
time, so as to benefit from his spiritual teaching, and they will
build him a shelter. They
will build huts for themselves in addition round about his, and
thus will an ashram be born, centered on a man of God.
He himself will have done nothing except to have prayed
and to have guided his disciples in the ways of prayer. Such is
the essence of an ashram, a centre for prayer. A group of disciples
meet round a holy man in order to share his prayer life and receive
his teaching. Is this not
just what happened in the Egypt of Antony's time, and indeed in
the case of Benedict at the start of his monastic life? The ashram
is a small community-it never becomes a great institution. It
is a community open to everyone, men;
women and children. Its
silence will not be such as is found in the cloisters of a great
abbey, and yet prayer will spring from it spontaneously, without
need of regulations. It is a genuine silence of the heart and of
the place itself. The prayer
proper to the ashram is meditation, occupying a much larger slice
of time than liturgical prayer.
Nevertheless, this latter is not absent, and is always
accompanied by bodily gesture and by the symbolic use of natural
elements:.
water, fire, flowers, incense;
and of course by music. There are already a good number of Christian
ashrams existing in India, and in a document published in recent
years the All India Bishops' Conference strongly recommended the
creation and development of others.
Certainly it is a thousand-year-old monastic tradition,
proper to India's religious spirit, which Christian monasticism
cannot neglect in India itself, and which may well answer the
aspirations also of the religious soul in many other parts of
the contemporary world. In the discussion following
Father Bede's paper much was said about little communities. Several people are tending in the direction
of small communities which are annexes of large monasteries, and
can adopt more easily than the latter a very simple kind
of life in fellowship
and solidarity with the local inhabitants.
Many such projects have already been put into practice
since in a poor country it is hardly feasible for a large community
(requiring large buildings and corresponding sources of income)
to live poorly as a community.
The discussion also brought out the need widely felt by
many people throughout the monastic world for a rethinking of
the balance between personal, private prayer and community prayer.
One of the fundamental characteristics of the new sensitivity now
being revealed, in the universal culture of which we spoke earlier,
is the new relationship and new balance now evolving between the
experience of faith and the religious expressions (beliefs and
rituals) of that experience. In this perspective, the balance prescribed
by St. Benedict between
private and communal prayer no longer corresponds to the religious
sensitivities and the spiritual needs of contemporary man, for
whom the interior dimension is more important than ritual expression. All these reflections could not but raise once
more the fundamental question of the validity of St. Benedict's Rule in fixing the norms. It was commented upon that, for virtually all our communities, the spiritual tradition
we use for interpreting St. Benedict's
Rule goes back only a couple of centuries at the most. We are prone to re-read it with the aim of finding
in it justification for our present practices. What we ought to rediscover is the Rule's liberating
dynamism, designed as it is to bring about the full flowering of life's potential. It was upon this note
that we concluded our week of research and reflection in common. The fruit it had borne had now to be described
in an official document, and a brief evaluation had to be made. The evaluation was made on the last afternoon. A "Message", from the monks of Asia
meeting in Kandy to their
brothers and sisters of the monastic world, had been composed
by a team during the previous few days; it was revised after discussion
in the full assembly and in groups, and was finally approved by vote on the final day. The courage and clear-sightedness expressed
in it bear true witness to the great richness of this conference. An Evaluation Dom Jean Leclercq, who
has participated in all three of the great meetings of Asian monasticism:
Bangkok, in 1968, Bangalore, in 1973, and now Kandy in 1980, as
well as in similar. meetings
organized by the AIM in the different continents, was called upon
to give his assessment. He
emphasized the extent of the ground that had been covered; Bangkok
being a discovery of new territory, Bangalore the further exploration
of it, and Kandy a profounder knowledge and an unearthing of fundamental
issues. This is true, whether
one thinks of the encounter between persons or of that between
religions: at the first meeting, people got to know each other;
at the second, they carne to love each other; and at the third,
they loved each other enough to be calmly objective and critical.
The Kandy Conference was less spectacular than its predecessors,
went on Dom Leclercq, but it was more neighborly.
It produced less in the way of theories, but more in the
way of practical ideas. One noticed in it a greater liberty with regard
to our own heritage and history.
With reference to the Eastern religions, we can now more
easily distinguish in them, as in our own case, the gap which
exists between an ideal and its putting into practice.
We continue to admire their spiritual wealth, whilst we
are now better acquainted with their problems-not so very different,
after all, from our own. There
are three questions confronting us, said Dom Leclercq: 1) What has the Orient to offer to the Occident, including these
thousands of young people from Europe and America who go there
in search of spirituality and in search of themselves? 2) What
has the Occident. to offer to the
Orient; and, amongst others, to the millions of Asians living
in Europe and America who are often in the poorest strata of society?
3) What have East and West to offer to the consumer society, whose
pernicious influence is found in every country of the globe? In
order to reply to this third question, monks have to proclaim
with their lives their belief in a supreme
Being-and for us Christians this belief is a faith in a God who
is the loving father of all men.
We also have to bear witness, through a life of renunciation,
to our out-and-out quest for this God. Being invited, in turn,
to make an evaluation of the Conference's proceedings, especially
from the point of view of group dynamics, I made the following
principal remarks. With regard to the assembly's composition, the
numerical importance of the Indian delegation was certainly a
positive - factor, because of the wealth of experience to which
its members gave testimony. All the same, this tended to concentrate the
attention on India -rather too exclusively, and the very different
experience of some other countries was not sufficiently brought
to notice. In the same way, the strong Sri Lankan delegation
contributed a lot, but the fact of its - representing the more
active Benedictine tradition meant perhaps that the contemplative
communities-a minority in any case-made little mention of their
experience. The balance between the number of "experts"
from outside the region and that of the delegates of Asian communities
was better than at Bangalore.
Then, in fact, there had been a considerable number of
highly competent experts, and rather colorful speakers too.
Without wishing to and without really realizing it, they
had at times monopolized the discussions.
In conformity with the wishes of the Asian superiors, few
experts--and those mainly monks-had been invited to Kandy.
Their participation was discreet and there was fruitful
interchange between them and the other Conference members. The talks which launched
the discussions each day were given by monks of the region (apart
from the one by Father Pieris), and all were practical as well
as challenging. The atmosphere for these discussions was astonishingly
serene, considering the burning nature of the subjects discussed,
and the sharp, even abrupt way in which some questions were framed. One noticed that a great evolution had taken
place since Bangalore in the level of awareness of socio-economic
problems and of their repercussions on the practice of monastic
poverty; and of the sense of urgency for a greater adaptation
of monastic life styles to local cultures. One observed, quite naturally, considerable
hesitation too, for many of the questions raised had no obvious,
answers, but no one took refuge in entrenched positions. The proof
of this is that the "Message" was approved by a unanimous
vote. To summarize, it may be said that at Kandy,
Asian monasticism demonstrated that it was in the best of health.
There is only one qualification that I would add to this statement:
it seems to me that, in their great effort at clear-sightedness
and sincerity, the monks of Asia were too severe and too negative
with regard to their own past and present. I would have liked a more positive and encouraging
attitude towards everything that has been achieved and is at the
moment being achieved, of very positive value, in their midst. The Abbot Primate pronounced
the closing speech and in it he stressed the many-sided character
of the great Benedictine monastic family, with some communities
more orientated towards contemplation and others towards the active
life. He underlined too, his appreciation of the fact
that our dialogue had led us back on the final day to the subject
of prayer and contemplation. Over
and above all that we may achieve outside, our most important
gift to Asia will always remain that of being men and women of
God. The young monks of Monte
Fano monastery who had seen to all the wants of the participants
throughout the course of the conference surpassed themselves by
arranging a wonderfully colorful final Eucharist, which became
at the same time the official celebration of St.
Benedict's 15th Centenary for the monks of Sri Lanka.
Sinhalese and Tamil instrumental music and singing alternated
with the Latin and English, thereby giving everyone the opportunity
of sharing in the joy of this final and concluding liturgical
celebration. Along with the meeting of African monasticism
last year in Abidjan, it proved one of the best of all the great
monastic encounters that have been organized by the AIM. Kandy,
SRI LANKA & Mistassini, Qué., CANADA
[1]
* The Asian
Monastic Conference, Kandy, Sri Lanka, 18th-24th
August 1980: The 15th
centenary of the birth of St Benedict was the occasion for Christian
nuns and monks of Asia to meet yet again in pursuit of the common
search initiated at Bangkok in 1968, and continued at Bangalore
in 1973. This third meeting
took place at Kandy, with nearly 70 participants from 28 Benedictine and Cistercian communities from Asia,
Australia, and New Zealand-12 different countries in all. At its conclusion, A MESSAGE was unanimously
approved by the participants.
We hope to publish this in our next issue (C.S. 1987.:1). |
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