Burning Hearts

April 26, 2020

In today’s gospel, Christ reveals himself as the hidden partner of our conversations.
“And it happened that while they were conversing and debating,
Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him.” (Lk 24:15-15)
“Were not our hearts burning within us
while he spoke to us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us?” (Lk 24:32)
This resurrection appearance fulfils Jesus’ promise to his disciples: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Mt 18:20).

What makes this experience so intriguing is that they did not immediately recognize him, and yet could look back on their encounter and acknowledge that their hearts burned within them. What does it mean that their hearts burned within them? Have you ever asked this question? I wonder. I think we know. I don’t think we need to be told. We are drawn to this verse not because we don’t understand it but because we do. We know what it is to have a burning heart, and we long for this. Our childhood experiences of God were often very simple: the reverent intimacy of touch, the quality of sunlight at the end of the day, the wind in the trees or a light breeze ruffling our hair. Just as we learn to identify and name the experiences of pleasure, pain, fear or joy, we come to know also what it is like to be touched by God, to be affected by his drawing near, as the early Cistercians would say. We look back and say, “Were not our hearts burning within us?” Over time, as we grow in maturity and spiritual sensitivity, we can come to recognize such experiences more readily and even as they occur, although there always remains something elusive about them. They are brief and rare, St Bernard says, but perhaps not so rare as all that, if we are attentive, ready and waiting to receive them.

I would like to spend some time with one example of the risen Christ’s presence in our midst that we have many opportunities to experience but may not always recognize. The gospel says that Jesus drew near while they were conversing and debating, but that their eyes were prevented from seeing him. Conversing and debating. Our community meetings offer opportunities for us to discuss aspect of our community life, our monastic practice and to discern important decisions. This falls under St Benedict’s teaching in chapter 3 of the Rule, where he speaks of calling the brothers for counsel:
“As often as anything important is to be done in the monastery, the abbot shall call the whole community together and himself explain what the business is; and after hearing the advice of the brothers, let him ponder it and follow what he judges the wiser course. The reason why we have said all should be called for counsel is that the Lord often reveals what is better to the younger.” (RB 3:1-3)

Bernardo Oliveira, OCSO, former Abbot General of our order has much to say about this chapter. The sole purpose of the convocation is to discern the will of God, to listen for his voice and to trust that he will speak in our midst. The abbess, as the one with final responsibility for deciding, is called to an exquisite sensitivity to the voice of the Lord speaking through the community, potentially through the voice of any sister. But we are all called to this exquisite sensitivity in listening to one another, ready and waiting for our hearts to start burning when we recognize the voice of the Lord. Now let’s be clear that this is not a matter of some obscure spiritual feeling that we follow blindly without understanding. Grace works through nature, and so discernment involves right reason, prudence and good judgment. We do not hear the Lord’s voice directly; we hear each other. These are familiar voices with sometimes familiar messages and patterns of thought. In faith, we come together not to fight for our point of view, to persuade others to agree with us or to start a campaign. We come to simply to put whatever insight we have in the pot with what everyone else has. We believe that there is another in our midst whom we do not see, not just alongside us, but within us. His will will be revealed among us. This he has promised.

It is the reference to the younger that intrigues me today. “The Lord often reveals what is better to the younger” (RB 3:1-3). My comments are indebted to Dom Bernardo’s presentation. What does Benedict mean to say? Does he believe those with less monastic experience could know better than those with more? In the culture of his time, it was assumed that the elders know better than the younger, because of the wisdom of their years. This is indicated at the end of the same chapter, where consultation with seniors only is proposed for less important matters, and in chapter 64 on the election of an abbot, where there is a possibility of consulting only those with “sounder judgment.” So Benedict, while retaining reverence for seniors, and respecting the fact that some in community do have greater experience and insight than others, seems to be counter-cultural in his direction that the abbot should look to the younger for advice on important matters. He does this again in chapter 63 on Community Rank, where he says quite definitively: “Absolutely nowhere shall age automatically determine rank. Remember that Samuel and Daniel were still boys when they judged their elders.” In today’s culture, the basic assumption would be just about the reverse: listen to the young, they are the future, they have new ideas and better ways of doing things. The old have had their day. For us, then, it would seem to be more counter-cultural to listen to the elderly. But perhaps the more important lesson, whether then or now, is to listen to all.

Bernardo asks why the younger should be possible channels for the Spirit of God to speak. Firstly, he notes that Benedict says “often” and not “always”. It is not an absolute. This means that God is free to reveal his will through anyone he chooses, whether old or young, confident or tentative, articulate or otherwise. Newcomers to the community may be less conditioned by past experiences, prejudices and interests and hence more open to hearing the voice of God. They may also have their own set of prejudices and interests. It is important to note the implicit biblical foundation. The section from chapter 63 on rank already quoted makes explicit the reference to Samuel and Daniel, whom God chose to judge their elders while still children. But the Bible is full of examples of God’s choice of the younger: Abel, Jacob, Gideon, David. This can be understood more broadly as part of God’s choice of the weakest, most insignificant and least promising: his people Israel. “My power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9), he will tell Paul. What I think Benedict is saying is not just “listen to the younger” but: listen to all in readiness to acknowledge the unexpected recipient of the Spirit. Allow the Spirit to blow where he wills and listen when he speaks, no matter how unlikely the bearer of his word may appear to you.

Ultimately this is not about chronological age, but about obedience: the willingness to hear and to do what God asks. Bernardo says that “The more obedient a brother or sister is, which means that he or she lives continually listening to God, so much the more wise, just and theological will their advice be.” Far be it from us to make the kind of judgements about our sisters and their capacity to give good advice that cause us to close our ears. The call is for each one of us to become “all ear” to God speaking in one another. May the risen Lord bless us with open ears and burning hearts.

Image: Janet Brooks Gerloff