What is life really about?
What’s the “good stuff” that we don’t want to miss out on?
Is there any way to know if we’re heading in the right direction?
Feeling a little directionless isn’t so unusual. Consider the quandary of this pizza delivery driver:
I’m 27. I make decent money working at dominos . . . . I recently went on a date with a woman and she asked what I did for a living and her entire mood changed. She didn’t say anything about my job but I knew what it was about.
I have a worthless associates degree in mathematics. . . .
I don’t know. This isn’t the life I expected being almost 30.
I can just feel the angst and self-questioning disappointment in these words. I’ve felt them myself when I’ve hit dead ends in life.
There’s a market for answering this kind of emptiness. Purpose is for sale in our culture in a thousand different ways. Coaches, psychologists, podcasters, bloggers, and even witty essayists are more than willing to guide you toward one north star or another: fitness, travel, financial independence, intellectual development, aesthetic wisdom, family life, or spirituality. Take your pick!
But is there a way of life that’s a little more . . . substantive? Something solid, not just one more “lifestyle option” to consume?
St. Benedict thought there was.
[Thanks for reading. This post continues our series Monastic Wisdom for the Marketplace. Check out our other posts on faith and work and spiritual growth for more resources on living an integrated Christian life. Subscribe to get the next post in the series in your inbox.]
What’s the Point of Monasticism?
St. Benedict, founder of the Benedictine monastic order, might seem like an odd model for twenty-first century workers. Most people I know, including myself, regard monasticism as a curious lifestyle that they would never seriously pursue for themselves. I’m married, so monkhood is de facto ruled out for me. But even among my unmarried friends, I don’t find too many of them clamoring to join a religious order. Even if we sometimes feel directionless, we’re pretty confident that the direction we’re looking for isn’t going to be found in a monastery.
The life of a monk or a nun seems so austere, so extreme. No sex? No personal possessions? Loads of prayer services? If that sort of thing floats your boat, then you do you, we think. Then we return to angstfully pondering our health, finances, career, and relationships.
But a question we may not think to ask can prove quite helpful for our own distress: Why would someone become a monk or a nun in the first place? What’s the point of such a life?
St. Benedict gives us an answer to this question in his Rule. In his chapter, “On the Manner of Receiving Brethren” he begins, “When anyone is newly come for the reformation of his life . . .”
People come to the monastery for “the reformation of life.” They come because something needs to be reformed (read: re-formed) inside of them. They need a direction, a path to walk, and they believe they will find it there.
A Lifelong Ache
Considering why someone might seek out a monastic life reminds us that monks and nuns are human beings, not spiritual superheroes. People come to the monastery because they need something. There is an ache within them that has not been satisfied elsewhere. For many of them, it cannot be satisfied elsewhere.
We are not so different from our monastic brothers and sisters. We ache, too.
When we wonder if our job is pointless, we ache.
When we groan with self-reproach for how we’ve damaged our friendships, we ache.
When we feel listless and bored despite all the entertainment, we ache.
When we worry about our future and the regrets we’ll have looking back, we ache.
The claim of the Christian tradition in general (and the Benedictine tradition in particular) is simple. Underneath all these pains is one, lifelong ache: our desperate need for God, and for a way of life that is with God.
Our personal experiences with religious communities may give us pause here. There are plenty of pastors who are grifters, selling purpose to enrich themselves. Unlike other self-help gurus, though, they invoke the name and the purported authority of God to do so. The cynicism that this kind of hypocrisy breeds is understandable.
But we sell our own longings short if we think that religious communities are only and always a sham. Monastic orders in particular, with their emphasis on simplicity and the surrender of personal possessions, give evidence of people seeking God earnestly. Let me simply suggest that anyone who wants to experience life with God (or even thinks they might want that) could learn something helpful from the communities of women and men who have dedicated their lives to that pursuit.
If there is a way for our lifelong ache to be satisfied, isn’t it worth investigating?
Reformation of (A Whole) Life
So what is this “reformation of life” that St. Benedict speaks of?
The Latin word that St. Benedict uses—conversatio—has been translated variously as “reformation” or “conversion.” With either translation, the emphasis is on change. Something is re-formed or “converted” to something else. Or, more accurately, someone.
However, St. Benedict does not imagine this “conversion” as a one-time event, but rather as something that unfolds in someone’s life as a whole over time. There is a decisive one-time event: When he takes his vows, each monk must commit to conversatione morum, “the reformation of his life.” But he does so understanding that living out that commitment will take his whole life long. St. Benedict describes it as a “journey to God” that will require “perseverance.” To fulfill their vocation, monks and nuns have to “bet the farm,” risking everything for the sake of drawing close to God.
A destructive misunderstanding must be addressed at this point. Some well-intentioned people desiring to undertake this “journey to God” suppose that it amounts to earning God’s approval through careful observance of his commands. Some interpreters of the Benedictine tradition have fallen into this trap of self-salvation.
But St. Benedict himself emphasizes that the whole journey comes from God’s grace and initiative. He insists that the monks must be whole-heartedly “convinced that the good which is in them cannot come from themselves and must be from the Lord” and cites the Apostle Paul’s testimony in 1 Corinthians 15:10: “by the grace of God I am what I am” (NIV).
Reformation of life is not about earning God’s favor; it’s about letting his grace change us—every part of us—as we come close to him.
Don’t Quit Your Day Job: Reformation of Life for Normal People
The good news for us non-monastics is that reformation of life is available even for normal people. We can begin the “journey to God” in the circumstances and demands of our lives just as they are: our families, our finances, our jobs, our bodies. The question is not whether we live in an apartment or an abbey, but whether we want to live life with God.
St. Benedict teaches that Jesus is the one who calls us to this spiritual pilgrimage. He has us imagine Jesus standing before a crowd and asking, in the words of Psalm 34:12, “Who is the person who desires life and loves length of days, that he may see good?” (NASB). St. Benedict says that we can answer that question. We can say, “I do! I want that!”
We can name our lifelong ache as Jesus invites us to come along on his way: “What can be sweeter to us, dear brethren, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in His loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life.”
St. Benedict continues, “Having our loins girded, therefore, with faith and the performance of good works, let us walk in His paths by the guidance of the Gospel, that we may deserve to see Him who has called us to His kingdom.”
The essence of reformation of life is not becoming a monk or nun; it is answering this call of Jesus. We place our faith in Jesus and then we begin to walk in his paths, always guided by the Good News of his death and resurrection.
If you’re looking for direction, you can find it here, in the way of Jesus. The way of Jesus is a way of life with real substance. It’s a way we can walk in every circumstance of life, good or ill. It’s a way that will let us hold on to what matters most, while letting go of everything that we’re better off without. It’s a way that Jesus makes clear, so that we know we’re walking in the right direction.
The lesson that the Benedictines teach us is not to join a religious order (although some of us may). What these wise sisters and brothers in the faith teach us is to “bet the farm” like they do, but in our own circumstances. We, too, can risk everything for the chance to draw close to God. We commit to the way of Jesus in our whole life, no holds barred.
Conversatio morum means conversion of life—all of life—into life with God, by grace, through faith. For all of us, it’s what life is really about.
Reflect and Practice
Take a moment to consider your own mind and heart.
- When in your life have you felt directionless?
- How do you discern the difference between someone “selling purpose” and someone offering something substantive?
- Do you agree that people’s “lifelong ache” comes from a need for life with God?
- How do you navigate the tension between the idea of conversion as a decisive commitment and as something that unfolds over time?
- What do you make of St. Benedict’s idea of “reformation of life”? Is it relevant to your “journey to God”?
Series photo by Bs0u10e01 on Wikimedia Commons, shared under CC BY-SA 4.0.
Post photo by MART PRODUCTION on Pexels.
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