This is the advice from one who loves you; welcome it and faithfully put it into practice.

Rule of Benedict, Prologue

At our diocesan camp, we have many practices but only one rule. This is our Rule of Life, which articulates how we intentionally seek to connect with God, others, ourselves and creation through words, actions and attitudes. On the first night of each summer camp session, before we review each section, we take the time to explain the idea of a Rule of Life, particularly as it applies to our common life at camp. We begin by explaining that we use the word rule to mean something like to regulate or to have regular habits. Next, we often share this example: “Our rule of life is like a set of bumpers on a bowling alley but for our community. They are simply a set of practices to help us all stay on the path of Jesus, caring for one another, ourselves and our place with generous helpings of mercy and grace, no matter how exhausted or frustrated we get with each other.”

The truth is that everyone at camp—from campers and guests to leaders and volunteers—struggles to stay on the path of love when living, working and resting in such close quarters. This is why we need to regularly practice the guides of the Rule, individually and together, to build up our spiritual and relational muscles. Like a musician practicing scales again and again, we must practice preferring one another, choosing one another, forgiving one another and blessing one another, not just once, but daily, moment by moment.

For Reflection
Do you have a Rule of Life? Does your family or church? How could having a Rule change the common life of one of your communities?

Find out how much God has given you and from it take what you need; the remainder is needed by others.

Saint Augustine

For many of us, one of the hardest things to see is how much God has given us. This is understandable in a culture dominated by social media influencers selling us every imaginable product alongside messages of scarcity and need. The phone, the watch, the house, the car, the vacation: they are enough until, suddenly, they aren’t.

The same is true of our common life, especially in the church. It is easy to look at larger churches, younger churches and more financially stable churches and wish we had what they have. It’s easy to get stuck in the “if only” loop: if only we had an endowment, if only we had young families, if only we had better live-streaming equipment. But “if only” isn’t really the way of Jesus, is it? Instead, his way is loaves and fishes, shared crusty bread and a common cup. The way of Jesus is local presence and community assets. The way of Jesus is cultivating an awareness of the abundance we have already been given and then looking to see who needs those gifts. Do we have empty buildings? Who is looking for shelter, a welcoming meeting place or a home base for their work with the poor? Do we have retired members? Who in our community needs tutoring, free business advice, or parenting mentorship? Do we have a lot of land? Who is looking for a place to grow food for their family or the food pantry? What flora or fauna needs a place to flourish so as not to become extinct? Who needs a green space to allow their children to play freely? All of our churches have a God-given abundance of something. The question is, are we willing to turn away from the “if only” to share “what is”?

For Reflection
Do you or your church struggle with being distracted by the “if only” question? Try keeping a list of the gifts you already have for a month and invite the Holy Spirit to reveal where there is abundance. Want to go deeper? Check out the Called to Transformation resources at calledtotransformation.org.

Abba Moses asks Abba Silvanus, “Can a man lay a new foundation every day?” The old man said, “If he works hard, he can lay a new foundation at every moment.”

Silvanus

Our diocesan camp has a small market-size teaching farm. We offer programs during camps and retreat sessions to grow produce and flowers for our kitchen and sell them at the local Farmers’ Market and through our community-support agriculture (CSA) shares plan. Interestingly, our two busiest seasons—summer camp and the farm harvest—happen concurrently. This means that both our farm and camp teams begin to struggle around the same time in the summer. Suddenly, there are groans from the counselors when asked to sing “Pharoah, Pharoah” one more time or to make yet another friendship bracelet. The farm hands begin to smile less at market and are a little less careful when packing the CSA bags. It is a mid-season slump brought on by heat, exhaustion and repetition. And yet, the job requires that each time the counselors are asked to sing, they do so as if it is their favorite song of all time, with joy and enthusiasm. And the job requires the farm hands to smile and chat with every stranger as if they are their new best friend.

For counselors and farm hands, this is what it looks like to serve Christ in all persons. But just as we cannot travel Lent with love and faithfulness through our own power, neither can they travel the summer alone. Only through the light of Christ within us and within those walking with us can we lay a new foundation of love and mercy moment after moment. Only when we remember that God has given us helpers—the presence of the Holy Spirit and each other—can we find the resources we need to walk farther than we could ever walk or sing or smile on our own.

For Reflection
Who or what helps you build a foundation when you are struggling to serve Christ in all persons?

It is the responsibility of the abbot or prioress to have great concern and to act with all speed, discernment, and diligence…they should realize they have undertaken care of the sick, not tyranny over the healthy.

Rule of Benedict

At the turn of the 20th century, industrialization greatly impacted farming practices, as it did on most everything in the Western world. Big machines, fast-acting chemicals and the tyranny of the urgent replaced the slow and steady agrarian practices of the past. Over a hundred years later, we can assess the damage many of these advances have inflicted on farmland, prairies, forests, watersheds and the climate. Now, we must decide: how shall we live in the face of this harm?

This is where being a follower of a resurrected Christ helps. We are Easter people. We believe in the transfiguration of what is. In the face of death and destruction, we don’t have to start from scratch; we just need to transform what we already have. This is where regenerative agrarian practices come into the picture. Regenerative agriculture focuses on soil health, striving to work with creation rather than against it. It seeks to work backward, undoing harm by adding back and allowing what has been stripped away to flourish. We must find ways to let the land we have rest, restore and heal. We must nurture it as we nurture a tired toddler with snacks and a long nap. And we must do the same for each other.

Jesus commands us to love God with our whole hearts and to love our neighbor—and I believe this includes our neighbor soil. And yet, we don’t love ourselves well. We push and demand and extract work and exhaustion from everyone, ourselves included. If we let the soil rest, we will also have to rest ourselves. We are going to have to allow our neighbor to rest. We will have to shift our mindset of what success looks like, away from productivity and toward a rest-based flourishing.

For Reflection
Who or what in your life or community needs to rest? Is it a habit, a person or a program? Who or what needs to be allowed to stop so that regeneration can begin its holy work?

Openness to the working of the Spirit in both individual and in community is vital, life-giving. Without it, there will be a closed-up person, a closed-up community.

Esther De Waal, A Life-Giving Way

My friend Anthony and I both love growing things. We love walking out our back doors and plucking fresh fruit or vegetables off trees, bushes, stalks and vines. But we live on different ends of the country, and though we both live in states known in part for farming, what grows in our yards is very different. For instance, he can walk out his back door and have his fill of limes and oranges. I can walk out my back door and have my fill of chestnuts and pecans. We are both growers, but the bounty from our efforts is very different.

Learning to plant what will grow in your soil and climate is challenging for every gardener, farmer, creation care activist and agrarian minister. A similar challenge is learning to make ourselves at home in our communities instead of forcing them to be who we wish they were. Nurturing ministries that will grow in our soil and climate rather than the soil we wish we had is crucial to the flourishing of all. This is why Episcopal Relief & Development works with local farmers in drought-prone areas on sustainable agricultural practices to create more resilience in the face of climate change.

Without creating a wholly false and manufactured environment, I will never be able to grow limes like Anthony, nor will he be able to grow chestnuts like I can. They are not authentic to our habitats. The question for every person and community of faith isn’t, “What do we want God to grow here?” but “What is it that God wants to grow in the soil we have?” What talents and resources are available in this place and time and climate? How can we catalyze change and development by tapping into the existing assets and capacities of our people and surrounding communities? And, maybe most importantly, are we willing to open our hearts and imaginations to that work?

For Reflection
Consider your prayers or your community’s prayers for growth. Have you predetermined what growth looks like? Or do you need to be reoriented to where the Holy Spirit is already at work?

When we live in community, let us choose obedience over discipline, for the latter teaches arrogance while the former calls for humility.

Syncletica

The word obedience comes from the Latin root of obedire, which means “listen to,” but the word was also commonly used to mean “pay attention to.” When wisdom from scripture, from the saints or the desert mothers and fathers, calls us to “obey,” we are being challenged to listen and pay attention.

The concept of discipline also has more than one meaning. Some hear “discipline” and think of self-control, our diets, exercise routines or fasting practices. Others think of punishment, often physical, which is, unfortunately, how many monastics most frequently misused the term in the thirteenth century.

But with a more authentic understanding, I have taken the liberty of rewriting Syncletica’s words: When we live in community—at home, church, school, work and neighborhoods—let us choose to listen and pay attention to each other and our own hearts over physically, mentally, or emotionally punishing ourselves or each other, for the latter teaches arrogance while the former calls for humility.

This Lent, what would it look like to pause, listen and pay deep attention when we are tempted to chastise, punish or criticize ourselves or others? Perhaps this Lent, instead of giving up chocolate or wine, we give up self-criticism and the harsh judgment of those who annoy us and instead attempt to listen with the heart of Christ to what is underneath those things we are prone to discipline.

For Reflection
Where could you begin to listen more and punish or criticize less? How might it change the relationship or communal experience?