November 29, 2020 | Br. Sixtus Roslevich O.S.B., Director of Oblates
During this time of almost worldwide shutdown, slowdown and pause which continues to affect every sphere of life, many people have turned to spiritual and philosophical introspection as a coping mechanism. Just when we think we can see a light at the end of the tunnel, it turns out to be the wrong tunnel, the wrong cure, only a bricked-up dead end and not really an exit or a way forward at all. It is frustrating and exasperating for many. The yoga mat or marathon breadmaking isn’t the strategic answer for everyone.
This may explain the uptick in calls and e-mails which have come into the monastery lately with inquiries about vocations and oblations. Thankfully one of my confreres here, a monk who is about half my age, has the title and responsibility as Director of Vocations. Perhaps he’s the walking poster boy for the demographic of young men we are seeking to attract to Portsmouth Abbey. Frustrated, perhaps. Exasperated, maybe. But there are many different paths which lead to the monastery once the Holy Spirit touches a man’s heart and soul.
Ask any one of us 8 monks living together at Portsmouth and you’ll be regaled with 8 very different travel stories of the journeys, some quite adventurous and unorthodox, that brought us together. The same may be said of Benedictine oblates and, don’t forget, I was an oblate for five years before answering the call to a full monastic life, a call I first heard clearly at age 7. Most every consecrated man or woman will tell you that, aside from the first mysterious movement or stirring of the Spirit within the heart, it was a literal tap on the shoulder which finally validated the idea, gave it some cachet. All it took, and all it still takes, is a suggestion from a trusted role model like a pastor or teacher, a coach or confessor, an aunt or an uncle.
“Whoever has ears to hear ought to hear” (Lk 8:8) and, with eyes to see, it becomes easier to discern a true light at the end of the correct tunnel. The simple words, “Have you ever thought of becoming a priest?” or “You should consider becoming a nun,” can have just as much impact on a person thinking about oblation. As the Director of Oblates at Portsmouth Abbey, I not only field some of those calls and e-mails to which I referred, but I try to be proactive in reaching out to anyone I happen to meet who might appear to be a seeker or a searcher looking for a closer link with monastic life.
That phrase, “a closer link with monastic life,” comes from a short essay in the most recent annual edition of the Benedictine Yearbook titled ‘Lay Affiliation with English Benedictine Monasticism.’ Its opening sentence is key: “From the earliest days lay people were attracted to Benedictine spirituality and wished to affiliate themselves with a monastic community so that they too might profit spiritually by living according to the spirit of the Rule [of Saint Benedict].”
Just as English Benedictine monasteries around the world differ widely in their practice, charism, and work, so, too, are the Oblate programs associated with those houses. Such programs are individualized and tailor-made to better be able to support and partake in the spiritual life of the monks. Unlike the monks who profess their solemn vows for a lifetime, oblates rather make a promise, generally renewable each year, to the abbot or other superior of the monastery. Most recently, oblates who have made their initial promise at Portsmouth Abbey have done so to Fr. Michael Brunner in his role as our superior under his title as Prior Administrator.
Since my arrival on Aquidneck Island in July 2019, I have spoken and written several times about the meaning of the word “oblation” itself. It is simply a synonym for an “offering” and in its earliest usage in Benedictine terms, oblates were generally boys or young men “offered to God by their parents for His service in the monastic state” (again from the Benedictine Yearbook). It was a system whereby the family was assured of an education for their son, often the eldest in a large agrarian family, and perhaps training in a trade or craft in which the monks were engaged. If after a prescribed length of time the young man heard the call, or felt the tap on the shoulder, to become a solemnly professed monk of the monastery, all the more honor would be bestowed upon the family. Many oblates grew up to be elected, decades later, as the abbot of the community.
Keep in mind that this particular system of monks and oblates, professions and promises, dates back to the sixth century. For an enlightening read about how the first seeds of the oblate program at Portsmouth Abbey were sown in 1914, five years before the monastery itself was founded in 1919, I refer you to an article elsewhere in this edition written by an oblate and the editor of The Current, Dr. Blake Billings. Blake has researched and now revisits an article from America magazine published in February 1918. It moves us in time from sixth-century Italy to twentieth-century New England and, as Blake makes clear, “introduces us to our own modern- day oblates.” I highly recommend it.
God’s abundant blessings for a quiet, peaceful and healthy Advent season.