Faith
The fifth chapter in "The Rule of Saint Benedict" begins like this:
My professor shared the sentiment that, unless you are a Benedictine, this chapter on obedience is perhaps the least popular section in "The Rule"-- a notion I've heard expressed elsewhere too. But as a man who is about to swear fealty to his bishop in front of the diocese in a few years, I have been wrestling with this concept of obedience.
Framed in terms of a monastic, my professor explained: if one has already accepted Christ as the ultimate authority, one doesn't hear dictates; orders; or even the commandments of our own proclivities. Rather, in our minds and of our own Free Will, we have awarded legitimate authority to the person and office of the superior. He also explained that the superior is acting under the counsel of the community: as a monastic, one has "thrown in one's lot" with the group, and views the superior's authority is authentic, per the mode of life one has chosen.
This explanation made sense to me, because it paralleled another concept with which I am already familiar.
In my view regarding the doctrinal authority of the Church, the faithful voluntarily participate in the "sensus fidei", and thereby a consent is formed regarding the teachings. They have "thrown their lot in" with the Church. Meanwhile and beyond papal and apostolic succession, the Church's teachings aren't "burdensome", even when following them presents challenges-- because the faithful have accepted, in a filial way, that their superiors are operating from a position of Christ-like love.
Looping things back to my diaconal formation then, Rev. Giuseppe Tanzella-Nitti, professor at the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross in Rome, explains it thusly:
Putting Benedict and my conception of Church authority together then, professing my obedience to my bishop simply involves marrying two premises which I already accept: that Christ's love is the authority, and that my superiors in the Church are guided by that love in the shepherding of their flock.
"The first step of humility is obedience without delay. This obedience is characteristic of those who value nothing dearer to themselves than Christ. Whether on account of the holy service which they have professed, or on account of their fear of hell, and the glory of eternal life, as soon as a superior has commanded something, they, as though commanded by God, are unable to let anything delay their doing it."
My professor shared the sentiment that, unless you are a Benedictine, this chapter on obedience is perhaps the least popular section in "The Rule"-- a notion I've heard expressed elsewhere too. But as a man who is about to swear fealty to his bishop in front of the diocese in a few years, I have been wrestling with this concept of obedience.
Framed in terms of a monastic, my professor explained: if one has already accepted Christ as the ultimate authority, one doesn't hear dictates; orders; or even the commandments of our own proclivities. Rather, in our minds and of our own Free Will, we have awarded legitimate authority to the person and office of the superior. He also explained that the superior is acting under the counsel of the community: as a monastic, one has "thrown in one's lot" with the group, and views the superior's authority is authentic, per the mode of life one has chosen.
This explanation made sense to me, because it paralleled another concept with which I am already familiar.
In my view regarding the doctrinal authority of the Church, the faithful voluntarily participate in the "sensus fidei", and thereby a consent is formed regarding the teachings. They have "thrown their lot in" with the Church. Meanwhile and beyond papal and apostolic succession, the Church's teachings aren't "burdensome", even when following them presents challenges-- because the faithful have accepted, in a filial way, that their superiors are operating from a position of Christ-like love.
Looping things back to my diaconal formation then, Rev. Giuseppe Tanzella-Nitti, professor at the Pontifical University of the Holy Cross in Rome, explains it thusly:
"If this is true for all the promises deacons and priests make before their ordination, it is especially true for the promise of obedience. It is obedience to the Bishop, but is ultimately, obedience to God the Father, in Christ his Son. There is no Christian obedience without love. Even when obedience could meet incomprehension, loneliness, unfruitfulness; in a word, when obedience meets the cross, it must always be informed by love, because a cross without love is not the cross of Jesus."
Putting Benedict and my conception of Church authority together then, professing my obedience to my bishop simply involves marrying two premises which I already accept: that Christ's love is the authority, and that my superiors in the Church are guided by that love in the shepherding of their flock.