The title of this chapter cuts to the root of a problem that we face in contemporary life. It sounds draconian and unloving. A closer look and the underlying issue reveals a commitment to a most loving response to correcting flaws in our living. My children and grandchildren often attempted to protect one another from the discomforts of discipline. Even when that child was the victim of abusive mistreatment by a sibling. One child might make ugly remarks toward their sister or hit their brother. When we began to act as the disciplinarian, the victimized child could be heard saying, “We were just playing” or “It wasn’t his fault” or “I didn’t mind it.” The victim compromised the effective discipline of the offender. The compassionate intent of one child countered the compassionate purpose of discipline intended to correct misbehavior.
St. Benedict addresses similar interference in this brief, single-sentence, chapter. The compassionate leader, described in Chapter 2, is charged with caring for the community. The abbot’s role is not the heartless king who seeks glory and honor. The abbot is charged to seek the welfare of the community, leading by example, and disciplining when absolutely necessary. When it is necessary to discipline, it should be done through a blend of balance and compassion with the goal of teaching balance and compassion. For others to sneak around for a time to maintain communion with someone intent on damaging community is wrong.
Those who bypass the decision of the abbot, demonstrate a pride that suggests they know all the details behind the punishment – AND – fosters a belief they know how best to deal with the indiscretion; rather than those responsible for welfare of the community. Such acts not only complicate the situation, but give fertile soil to further grumbling and rebellion. They complicate the problem with their own indiscretion, whether by meeting with the person being disciplined or even writing a note, emailing a message, or texting (in our current age of technology). They promote an environment of deceit and subversion, though their original intent may have been to show support and concern. Sr. Joan Chittister contrasts the difference between positive and negative support. She writes,
“It is not supportive to take away a person’s heart medicine simply because they do not like the taste of it. It is not supportive to fail to set a broken leg simply because the setting will be painful. It is not supportive to deny people the right and the environment to think a situation through, to recommit themselves, to gain perspective, to work things out without dividing the community over them. Sometimes pain itself cures.” [1]
A sign of St. Benedict’s genius is his ability to provide a breadth of wisdom from only a few words.
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[1] Joan Chittister, The rule of Benedict: a spirituality for the 21st century (New York: Crossroad, 2010), 148.
