Ben Camino's Isolation Liturgy

Lauds (Morning Prayer) 

for the Fifth Sunday Of Lent

 With most of us, perhaps all of us, unable to attend worship services in these strange times, I hope that you will be able to find helpful and hopeful ways to participate in Divine worship. Many of you, I am sure, will have some kind of video or audio service in which you can join friends and family. I hope you can. 


Some of you already may know about the ancient Christian tradition of praying the hours, starting with the early morning Vigils and moving into the time of Morning Prayer known as Lauds (Praise). Some of you may not have experienced it before, but may find it beautiful and meaningful. You can pray along using the text below the soundfile. I do a little bit of explanation in the soundfile, so you might want to listen to it if this is completely new.  


I've shared this previously with many friends by email. Placing it here seems less intrusive. I hope it's just as helpful. At some point, I will get my friend Greg down in Louisiana to help me make it better and cleaner. But for now, let's pray. 



Lauds


O God, come to my assistance. 

-- O Lord, makes haste to help me. 

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit

-- As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen. 



Psalm 67

O God, be gracious and bless us *
and let your face shed its light upon us.
So will your ways be known upon earth *
and all nations learn your saving help.

Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.

Let the nations be glad and exult *
for you rule the world with justice.
With fairness you rule the peoples, *
you guide the nations on earth.

Let the peoples praise you, O God; *
let all the peoples praise you.

The earth has yielded its fruit *
for God, our God, has blessed us.
May God still give us his blessing *
till the ends of the earth revere him.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, *
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now, *
and will be for ever. Amen.

HYMN
The glory of these forty days
We celebrate with songs of praise;
For Christ, by whom all things were made,
Himself has fasted and has prayed.

Alone and fasting Moses saw
The loving God who gave the law;
And to Elijah, fasting, came
The steeds and chariots of flame.

So Daniel trained his mystic sight,
Deliver’d from the lions’ might;
And John, the Bridegroom’s friend, became
The herald of Messiah’s name.

Then grant us, Lord, like them to do

Such things as bring great praise to you;
Our spirits strengthen with your grace
And give us joy to see your face.

O Father, Son, and Spirit blest,
To you be every prayer addressed
And by all mankind be adored,
From age to age, the only Lord.

Tune: Erhalt’ uns, Herr L.M.
Music: J. Klug’s Geistliche Lieder, 1547
Text: Latin, sixth century
Translation: Maurice F. Bell, 1906, alt.


PSALMODY
Antiphon. My God, you have become my help.

Psalm 63:2-9
O God, you are my God, for you I long; *
for you my soul is thirsting.
My body pines for you *
like a dry, weary land without water.
So I gaze on you in the sanctuary *
to see your strength and your glory.

For your love is better than life, *
my lips will speak your praise.
So I will bless you all my life, *
in your name I will lift up my hands.
My soul shall be filled as with a banquet, *
my mouth shall praise you with joy.

On my bed I remember you. *
On you I muse through the night
for you have been my help; *
in the shadow of your wings I rejoice.
My soul clings to you; *
your right hand holds me fast.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, *
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now, *
and will be for ever. Amen.

Antiphon. My God, you have become my help.



Ant. 2. Free us by your wonderful works; deliver us from the power of death.


Canticle: Daniel 3:57-88, 56

Bless the Lord, all you works of the Lord. *

Praise and exalt him above all forever.
Angels of the Lord, bless the Lord. *
You heavens, bless the Lord.
All you waters above the heavens, bless the Lord. *
All you hosts of the Lord, bless the Lord.
Sun and moon, bless the Lord. *
Stars of heaven, bless the Lord.

Every shower and dew, bless the Lord. *
All you winds, bless the Lord.
Fire and heat, bless the Lord. *
Cold and chill, bless the Lord.
Dew and rain, bless the Lord. *
Frost and chill, bless the Lord.
Ice and snow, bless the Lord. *
Nights and days, bless the Lord.
Light and darkness, bless the Lord. *
Lightnings and clouds, bless the Lord.

Let the earth bless the Lord. *
Praise and exalt him above all forever.
Mountains and hills, bless the Lord. *
Everything growing from the earth, bless the Lord.
You springs, bless the Lord. *
Seas and rivers, bless the Lord.
You dolphins and all water creatures, bless the Lord. *
All you birds of the air, bless the Lord.
All you beasts, wild and tame, bless the Lord. *
You sons of men, bless the Lord.

O Israel, bless the Lord. *
Praise and exalt him above all forever.
Priests of the Lord, bless the Lord. *
Servants of the Lord, bless the Lord.
Spirits and souls of the just, bless the Lord. *
Holy men of humble heart, bless the Lord.
Hananiah, Azariah, Mishael, bless the Lord. *
Praise and exalt him above all forever.

Let us bless the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. *
Let us praise and exalt him above all forever.
Blessed are you, Lord, in the firmament of heaven. *
Praiseworthy and glorious and exalted above all forever.

Ant. Free us by your wonderful works; deliver us from the power of death.

Ant. 3 The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.

Psalm 149

Sing a new song to the Lord, *
his praise in the assembly of the faithful.
Let Israel rejoice in its maker, *
let Zion’s sons exult in their king.
Let them praise his name with dancing *
and make music with timbrel and harp.

For the Lord takes delight in his people. *
He crowns the poor with salvation.
Let the faithful rejoice in their glory, *
shout for joy and take their rest.
Let the praise of God be on their lips *
and a two-edged sword in their hand,

to deal out vengeance to the nations *
and punishment on all the peoples;
to bind their kings in chains *
and their nobles in fetters of iron;
to carry out the sentence pre-ordained; *
this honor is for all his faithful.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, *
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now, *
and will be for ever. Amen.
Ant. The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.


READING


Leviticus 23:4-7

These are the festivals of the Lord which you shall celebrate at their proper time with a sacred assembly. The Passover of the Lord falls on the fourteenth day of the first month, at the evening twilight. The fifteenth day of this month is the Lord’s feast of Unleavened Bread. For seven days you shall eat unleavened bread. On the first of these days you shall hold a sacred assembly and do no sort of work.


RESPONSORY

Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on us.
– Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on us.

You were wounded for our offenses,
– have mercy on us.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit.
– Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on us.

THE BENEDICTUS 


Ant. Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; let us go and wake him.

Canticle of Zechariah (Luke 1:68-79)

Blessed + be the Lord, the God of Israel; *
he has come to his people and set them free.

He has raised up for us a mighty savior, *
born of the house of his servant David.

Through his holy prophets he promised of old †
  that he would save us from our enemies, *
  from the hands of all who hate us.

He promised to show mercy to our fathers *
and to remember his holy covenant.

This was the oath he swore to our father Abraham: *
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
free to worship him without fear, *
holy and righteous in his sight
all the days of our life.

You, my child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High; *
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,
to give his people knowledge of salvation *
by the forgiveness of their sins.

In the tender compassion of our God *
the dawn from on high shall break upon us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, *
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, *
and to the Holy Spirit:
as it was in the beginning, is now, *
and will be for ever. Amen.

Ant. Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; let us go and wake him.



LITANY (INTERCESSIONS)
Let us praise our loving Redeemer, who gained for us this season of grace, and pray to him, saying:
Lord, create a new spirit in us.

Christ, our life, through baptism we were buried with you and rose to life with you,
– may we walk today in newness of life.
Lord, create a new spirit in us.

Lord, you have brought blessings to all mankind,
– bring us to share your concern for the good of all.
Lord, create a new spirit in us.

May we work together to build up the earthly city,
– with our eyes fixed on the city that lasts for ever.
Lord, create a new spirit in us.

Healer of body and soul, cure the sickness of our spirit,
– so that we may grow in holiness through your constant care.
Lord, create a new spirit in us.

THE LORD’S PRAYER
(Remember us, Lord, when you come to your kingdom and teach us how to pray:)

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, 

and the glory forever and ever. Amen. 


CONCLUDING PRAYER

Father,

help us to be like Christ your Son,
who loved the world and died for our salvation.
Inspire us by his love,
guide us by his example,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
– Amen.

May the Lord + bless us,
protect us from all evil
and bring us to everlasting life.
– Amen.



Let us bless the Lord.

-- Thanks be to God. 

This version of Lauds is a compilation from the Benedictine Breviary and IBreviary. 

Ben Camino's Ironic Isolation Meditation #3

  

C. S. Lewis Was Wrong 

(about the Coronavirus)

a guest meditation by Joe Martyn Ricke

There's some fake news floating around the web these days, all in good fun, but with a serious message. And a serious error in that serious message. 

Seeking to connect our current crisis with the wisdom of C. S. Lewis, well-meaning folks -- fans of Lewis and friends of mine -- have been riffing on his 1948 essay "Living in an Atomic Age" in classrooms, on blogs, in videos, and in several conversations I have had with well-meaning colleagues. Those went something like, "well, you know . . . C. S. Lewis wrote something about this in . . . ." 

Well, yes he did. But, no he didn't. Lewis wrote about a world almost paralyzed with fear over the possibility of atomic warfare just after World War 2. Full disclosure, I am old enough to remember atomic bomb drills in school in which all the students cocooned under their desks while gigantic Sister Mary Whatever stood up front with a cane in her hand to make sure we were fully cocooned to her specifications. 

More memorable, although imaginary (isn't that just the way it is?), I had a recurring dream in my childhood in which I stood on my bed and looked out my window (it was a highly placed, wider than tall rectangle in my fashionable mid-century modern ranch style home). In the dream, I waited breathlessly until I saw one lone plane flying above. I recognized it by its one blinking red light. I knew it was a Russian bomber coming to drop the atomic bomb on my little hometown just a mile on the Texas side from the Mexican border. That either happened many times, or it happened once within a serious case of deja vu. I can't be sure which. But it's one of the most powerful memories of my childhood. Of my life. 

So you see, dear reader, C. S. Lewis wrote to me although I wasn't born yet when he wrote the essay. And I guess, given my love of his work, you could say that he has been writing to me ever since.

Anyway(s), here is the section of his essay that has been much repeated and riffed on recently, sometimes with the subject actually changed, sometimes with instructions to the reader to do so: 

In one way we think a great deal too much of the atomic bomb (coronavirus). "How are we to live in an atomic (corona) age?" I am tempted to reply: "Why as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat any night; or indeed, as you are already living in an age of cancer, an age of syphilis, an age of paralysis, and age or air raids, an age of railway accident, an age of motor accidents." 

In other words, do not let us begin by exaggerating the novelty of our situation. Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love were already sentenced to death before the atomic bomb (COVID-19) was invented: and quite a high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways. . . .

This is the first point to be made: and the first action to be taken is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb (the coronavirus), let that bomb (virus) when it comes find us doing sensible and human things -- praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts -- not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs (viruses). They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.

As usual with C. S. Lewis, well said. Balanced, rational, yet with an emotional appeal for which he gets too little credit. The final paragraph, like so many passages to which Lewis builds up, is sublime. It lifts us. King Henry V addressing the troops at Agincourt. 

But, this analogy bothered me from the start. Not the whimsical obviously parodic uses: "C. S. Lewis Predicts Coronavirus," as one friend posted on his Facebook page. But the encouragement on blog after blog (many of them having the word "Gospel" in their title) and then on Facebook post after Facebook post (usually linking to those Gospel blogs), and then in classrooms from what I could see on discussions within the online Lewis community, to take this wisdom to heart as a guide to the present crisis. "Just replace atomic bomb with coronavirus" was the interpretive key provided over and over again. 

The most obvious problem of course is that there is no way in hell we should be in a crowded pub drinking a pint and playing darts instead of worrying about the coronavirus. In fact, doing so would be how to trigger an atomic attack not how to face one (analogically speaking). That would be stupid not sensible.  Second, many (not all) of the other regular communal human activities, which Lewis encourages, are, again, more like collaboration with the enemy, more suicidal than faithful.
  
I imagine that if he were here Lewis would, instead, urge us to think of ourselves as a scout in a patrol, making sure not to endanger our comrades in arms. In other words, to be very careful even if that doesn't look very courageous. Why? Because foolhardiness, in battle and on Florida beaches, is a vice that only looks like courage (What do they teach in school these days? It's all in Aristotle.)

This is also why the "cheer up and just quit thinking about it" attitude in the piece is such a difficult concept to transfer to the present situation as well. Because, if we are doing the right thing, we are shutting ourselves up, many of us alone (or isolated with a small group of necessarily huddled sheep), with very little of our normal routine, the very thing Lewis prescribes to help us get our minds off of the danger. It's as of we are hospitalized for the plague, whether we have it or not. It is not, in fact, like going to our everyday job which he recommends. At least not in the usual way. At least not for most of us.

Many of the things he lists may be summed up as normal life, a good way, let's face it, to keep our minds occupied about something other than the bomb. But now our individual and communal destruction, which importantly is NOT inevitable if we do sensible things, are put at risk by the normal. 

Obviously, I don't blame Lewis for being wrong about the coronovirus or for being, if not misquoted, misanalogized. My title was intended as a catchy way to combat the catchy titles suggesting an equivalence that isn't there. In fact, I think that Lewis would almost certainly ask us  to "pull ourselves together" and STOP doing our regular routines if that is what it would take to defeat the enemy. Something he knew quite a lot about by 1948, fighting in one World War and living through a second with all of its personal sacrifices and "huddling together during bombing attacks."

And, of course, Lewis's ultimate point isn't really about either the coronovirus or the atomic bomb. It's a reminder that life has always been precarious, always dangerous, all men are mortal, Socrates is a man, Socrates will die, and so will we. Ben Camino's Ironic Isolation Meditation #2, The Fake New, deals with that at length. There, Ben, don't say that your editor never slipped you a promo. 

And so will we all die, atomic bomb/coronavirus or not. We are always at war, as Lewis says in the magnificent sermon, "Learning in War-Time." Life is always lived on the knife's edge.

But I have an ultimate point myself that isn't about either the atomic bomb or the coronavirus. What was the source of this "rush to analogize" the coronovirus with something in Lewis's works? Did we somehow need C. S. Lewis to shed a guiding light on the current crisis? Lewis helps us with so much. His work often rises to the level not only of sublime rhetoric but to wisdom literature. Unfortunately, our appeals to his authority sometime lead to some silly things, like all the misquotes (intentional and otherwise) in memes on the internet. Ooooh, that sounds so good. Must be C. S. Lewis. No, actually, it's Rumi. 

Misquotation, though, is not the only or even most problematic way this urge to appropriate Lewis takes shape. Even when the words are really his, our need to appeal to his authority leads us sometimes to use him as a proof-text even when our textual exegesis is rather sloppy, as in the example before us I think. We probably are not well served by taking "verses" from Lewis out of context to prove our points. And we are definitely not well served when we make false analogies from his work to another situation. Yes, he puts George MacDonald as his guide in heaven, but he doesn't mean necessarily that we all need a Scottish guide. Although I do have a few friends from St. Andrews who might disagree with that. 

I say this, perhaps surprisingly, as the Director of the Center for the Study of C. S. Lewis & Friends, friends. I love C. S. Lewis, even though I sometimes resist and even criticize his words and ideas, just as some (all?) of his best friends did. Indeed, I truly believe that Lewis can help us think about the coronavirus. That it would be as easy as substituting one word for another . . . should give us pause. 

Finally. Oops.  I know, I know, it's a violation of the Ben Camino Manual of Style to have a finally after an ultimate. But in the hopes that Ben is busy watching NBA re-runs, and since I'm his editor anyway, I'm going for it. So, finally I say: I would also like to criticize, gently, Lewis's take on how to face the atomic bomb and attempt to show, by analogy, that it may, in fact, pose a problem for how we face the current crisis. 

Lewis was obviously not a pacifist; see his essay, "Why I Am Not a Pacifist (1940)." Still, his advice for facing atomic destruction strikes me as rather . . . passive-ist. Clearly, the same person who might play tennis, study, pray, and have a pint with his friends, might also, for example, work for nuclear disarmament given what the result of nuclear war would probably be. Or, perhaps, she could organize to get out the vote for the party she feels least likely to lead the world into nuclear war. Or, even  . . . build a bomb shelter. I'm not that invested in the bomb shelter idea, but certainly a lot of other people were. I know, of course, that people felt pretty helpless about stopping the atomic threat. That's why six year old's stood on their beds in nightmares and saw Russian bombers improbably flying over Mercedes, Texas.

But here, I think (although I will wait to hear from Edwin Woodruff Tait before I am absolutely sure) we do have an analogy that works. Yes, we are all going to die. And I may even hear the costly call of discipleship to come and die (Bonhoeffer) or the call to suffering from Our Lord. But a simple rule of Christian ethics is that although I may very well need to accept suffering and death (take up your cross), I should do all I can to make sure my neighbor is not crucified or, as Lewis thought about even animals, not treated inhumanely. Even Bonhoeffer who knew the cost of discipleship might be suffering came to realize that the call of his neighbor might mean doing all he could to stop the powers of evil. Obviously, Lewis knows this as well. But seems to gloss over it in his atomic bomb essay. 

Perhaps we could miss a few pints and few matches of tennis and think about our children or even our children's children. Or, using another analogy, when the slave masters come and find the runaway slaves, their suffering will, from one perspective, just be a small part of the total reality summed up in the statement that all humans suffer and die, "and quite a high percentage of us are going to die in unpleasant ways." But I hope that we will not blame them for huddling together like frightened sheep when the storm troopers or the slave catchers or the bomb deliverers come. And I hope that we will have thought long and hard about what we could do to work against these specific examples of suffering and death, despite its ultimate inevitability. Life, death, and discipleship are not equations figured by the sum total. They are existential matters.

By analogy, although a rather convoluted one, since one of our primary weapons now against the contagion is a kind of passive resistance, we must consider what we can do to stop the suffering. And shrugging our shoulders and saying, "well I came to party with my friends because, hey, we are all going to die and besides it's spring break in Florida," looks satanic from our perspective now. 

Time for bed. Just this: I appreciate Lewis's point about our mortality and our human practices that must go on and will help us go on in the face of the inevitable. As far as it goes. This part of his essay, unlike the simple analogy in the "just substitute coronavirus" trope which cannot,  can teach us something about our present situation. However, as I am sure he would say if he could, we need a new "normal" in our coronavirus age, for the good of ourselves, our neighbors, and the many potential gods and goddesses he writes so profoundly about in "The Weight of Glory." 

Like the words of C. S. Lewis, the words of logic's first syllogism about the inevitability of death and the words of Jesus about the call to the cross, are texts that need careful interpretation. Neither should be, but both sometimes are taken to be, reasons to cancel our "normal" human precautions, worry, and even united, militant action against evil when necessary. Life is a good gift. Worth protecting. The best way to prepare for a good death is to live a good life. One of the ways of living a good life (as well as tennis, pubs, and gardening) is fighting for it with all the wisdom and strength we can muster. 

Be safe everyone. Pray for me. And Ben Camino who will probably be back soon after he sees this.  

Ben Camino's Ironic Isolation Meditation #2

The Fake New

According to James Taylor, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come. According to Ben Camino, those hours are more likely, these days, spent talking to someone trying to help you figure out how to get your computer to work so that you can be physically isolated but technically connected to the distanced people our there who crave your wisdom. Or, at least, pay for it with tuition money.

You know the sad thing about that opening paragraph is that it falls so short of what I read on Sunday. The gospel reading was about the man born blind healed byJesus. And the other reading was from Saint Augustine's commentary on John, especially about the blind man passage. It was brilliant. Not just smart. Not just profound. But worth biting, chewing, and eating. It reminded me, as things tend to do since my vocation includes reading the compositions of incredible writers, of how deeply satisfying rhetoric can be. Even if you don't actually believe what the particular saint/rhetorician might be saying (which is often the case with me and Saint A). But that's why some of us (or at least one of us) gorge on gorgeous rhetoric even as we keep an ironic eye out for lumps of meaning we'd rather not swallow. How's that Saint A?  I know, I know, it would sound better in Latin. 

But seriously, before I leave this digression, if you can get you eyes or even better your ears on that gospel reading and that passage from Saint Augustine, you too will stand amazed in the presence of human (and maybe divine) rhetorical flourishing. Call me, I'll read it to you (#999-999-9999).

Anyway(s), back here in the 21st Century, I spent four hours or so today on my phone and computer, with an expert helper also on her phone and somehow (magic?) on my computer,  trying to figure out why I couldn't access my "My Documents" folders or any of the thousand or so documents from the Center where I work (yes, Ben, has a daytime job).  

For a moment I dozed off and dreamed that heaven would probably look a lot like a completely wired bright shiny world in which all our pastors will have shaved heads, wear flannel shirts and jeans, play Epiphone guitars, sing sort of like Creed, and stream their "hey guys" selves right into my beautiful HP screen forcing me to do happy dances with all my virtual friends. I woke up screaming no. I'd rather go blind. Or go to hell as the case may be. 

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Now, exhausted from all that computer agony not to mention the dream, neither I nor my expert helper have my computer problems all figured out. Some of them though, thanks to her. And I hope now that tomorrow I will start working on what I was going to work on today -- bringing the Renaissance and the works of Shakespeare to my dispersed, distanced apprentices through the miracle of Zoom. Pray for me. 

Don't get me wrong, the person helping me was amazingly helpful. And gracious. And barely suppressing things like "cuss cuss Bill Gates; cuss Micro cuss Soft cuss." Or maybe that was just his ironic highness's interpretation of her frustrated mutterings. I know she did complain at least once about having to "guess what Bill is thinking" while working her/our way through the maze. I just wish Lewis Carroll were here to write a long poem about it. Wabberjocky, you say?

It's a brave new world with all this technology, isn't it friends? Not like those horrible medieval times (that Ben Camino teaches people about) when people thought that the world was flat, that sex was for having children, that bread fell from the skies (at least on the rich or the Israelites), and that music was to be played live, preferably on bagpipes and sackbutts. Heck, I hear that when times were bad, sometimes people would even just step out on their balconies and serenade their neighbors. That was back before science and technology had created a utopia of peace, joy, and justice. Yet. Shoot, those people were so vulnerable, they even didn't have a vaccine against. . . . anything. 

Famous last words here dear readers-- I'm going to keep this short. Yes, of course, we have technology. New technology. A lot of technology. All the best technology.  And yes, I'm glad that right now scientists are at work on a vaccine and I'm VERY glad that we know there are such things as vaccines. Still, Science, as I pointed out by ironically stating the opposite in the previous paragraph has NOT succeeded, don't you agree, in creating a utopia. A world of peace, joy, and justice. Not seeing it. Nor has it saved us from the plague. Our plague. The kind of thing we've heard about but most of us (except for epidemiologists) didn't really believe in. 

Science isn't enough against the unknown. And it never has been. And it's always been the most fake of fake news to think that it is. The ultimate fake news is what I call the Fake New. That everything now or ever in this  bitch of a world under the moon goddess and her hungry wolves will be NEW in some ultimate sense. Oh, I know that Karl Marx, Chairman Mao, and some wacky cult leaders with whatever latest revivals came along thought so, said so. In some cases, they got out the koolaid or the Killing Fields and tried to make it happen. The Fake New is that we are a superior race to the hard and tough and strong and faithful and hopeful people who lived through all kinds of terrors and horrors and dangers (we are bracketing these issues tonight, dear Lord, but we still have some questions worth asking) as long as there have been people. 

And, as in the medieval picture above, these amazing folks, with really cool hats, walked on the tight rope (or whatever that is) over the abyss and . . . smiled? And danced? And held hands? 

If we are, indeed, new and different from them, are we sure that's a good thing? The Fake New is the ultimate fake news. We are human. We are contingent beings. We will perish. We are subject to virulent forces, both seen and unseen. Yes, we have figured some things out. And, I for one am very glad we have. I am presently practicing strict physical distancing. Even isolation. Because I know that I am in the "risk category" (more than one actually). And that, regardless, if I get the virus and somehow survive it, I might pass it on to someone else who won't. And I'm listening to science. Because science (or something like) is pleading with us, for now, in a kind,humble, gracious, parental voice. Please. We think this will help. We are developing tests. We hope there will  be a vaccine. We do NOT know everything, but we are learning all we can. We are human too.  

I sometimes get so negative about Scientism, the idea that all our new ideas and new technology will necessarily bring in utopia (and we respond, genetic mutations, atomic bombs, animal testing, etc.), that I forget to remember this. Science is also a source of hope. After all, science is simply the word for knowledge. And we know that though THIS enemy seems invisible, it's not really invisible. We just have to learn how to see it and to understand it. And we need time and the best tools of science to do that. 

Folks brought up on the fake news of the Fake NEW have learned to think, perhaps some still think, that we are a different order of being. That the world is just going to shape itself to our every whim. Friends, it has NEVER done that. It has always been dangerous. 

On the other hand, human beings have, at their best, and over a long, long history, demonstrated an ability to have hope in the midst of some pretty bad circumstances and to work together to protect, heal, and survive. This is not going to be one of those -- well there's a silver lining in this dark cloud so let's all just learn an inspirational lesson -- TED talks. I've been seeing some "count your blessings" posts and I struggle with them. Maybe that's just me. My point is this. It's not new, although it is different. And we aren't the NEW WORLD we sometimes thought we were. We have always been on a tightrope. We are on a tightrope. But with other people, maybe even smiling, maybe even dancing, maybe even holding hands. 

And, thanks to Bill Gates and my computer expert helper, for the time being we can and WILL do it in a different way. A kind of new way (although you wouldn't convince Saint Benedict and his sister, Scholastica of that), as long as we don't think new means better. Here we go. Together in a  necessarily distanced dance, over the abyss, virtual hand in virtual hand, singing from our  balconies, looking into each other's eyes even if through windows, giving each other all the hope we can. 

Be safe friends. And pray for me. 
Ben Camino

Ben Camino's Ironic Isolation Meditation #1

Benedict: Not Optional Anymore

Ben of course is short for Benedict. And today is the feast of Benedict. Saint Benedict. The one with Benedict Options (see Rod Dreher if you want). The founder of monasticism, at least of the Western version (that means European, not Californian, in case you wondered). The Benedict who, legend has it, was nice to a raven once, and, unlike in real life, the raven later was nice to him. It's all there in books, or, if you must, in Wikipedia.  You can look it up. While you are at it, check out some books on his sister, Scholastica. Read about her, because she was awesome too. But this is Benedict's day. Actually the memorial of the day he died (which also has some pretty great miracle stories attached to it). Whoa. Sorry. I guess that's a lot of stuff for you to look up. 

Anyway or anyways, as some combination of friends and former friends like to say, that itself is reason enough for Ben Camino to crawl out of his bed of irony to meditate aloud for all friends, former friends, meat-eaters, and the folks out there hoarding sanitizer, toilet paper, and, oh yeah, COVID-19 TESTS. I'm looking at you, NBA. You too, Hollywood. You three, U.S. Military. And Fred down the street, you too, but for toilet paper not tests. 

Well, I'm not going to bore you, in case you bore easily, with how great and crazy the readings were in my prayer book today (I use it, I don't have the copyright or anything): Benedictine Daily Prayer: A Short Breviary. Things like, "There [in a cave, if you want to know where there is], midst the nettles, painful thorns, and briars, /Bravely he conquered flaming youthful passions; /Then, for our guidance, wrote his Rule of wisdom, /Rule of discretion." That was from the hymn for Second Vespers. Don't ask, it's complicated (which is another way of saying, you can look that up too). 

I know, I know, you're saying Ben (meaning me, I assume), you just said you wouldn't bore us with all the crazy stuff like nettles and flaming youthful passions, but there you went and done did it! You are correct. However, that is not really the point of the passage I quoted. In fact, if you are really curious, there is indeed crazier stuff than that in the prayers for today. At least you would think it's crazy. You can't really be sure that Ben Camino thinks so, can you? That's why they call me Ben Camino, ironic meditator.  

Anyway(s), the point of the passage is THE RULE. 

Sometime around 530 A.D., Benedict left his cave (where he had become a hermit, like yours truly). He was in the cave partly because as a young man he had visited Rome and was disgusted with the immorality he saw there. He thought (you can't be sure if I agree with him can you?) that it was going to take strong medicine, some harsh measures, some isolation to make a difference. So, the cave for him. People found him out, wanted to join him, and he said brilliant wise things (the kind of things his namesake says quite often, sometimes just muttering to himself, sometimes in ironic meditations). Things like: it's going to take strong medicine, some harsh measures, some isolation to make a difference. I know, I know. How boring. I'm sure all the fans were hoping that he'd say, why don't we all just sing We Are the World and see how that works?


He left the cave and founded a monastery. At Monte Cassino. They partied hard there in his honor today, as only monks can. I have no idea what that means. I don't know exactly what the monastery looked like in 529 A.D. but it was built a fortress on top of a mountain. A place intentionally "distanced." It wasn't a castle for a king; it was a fortress for an army. Chant after me: strong medicine, harsh measures, isolation. In fact, it's famous now as the site of major fighting during World War 2. To tell you the truth, if old Saint Benedict could slide down that same starry path he was said to have gone up on this day oh so many years ago, he would say that it has been the site of some damn fierce fighting since 529 A.D. 

And we would say. Fighting? You're monks. You pray. You isolate. When you get really crazy, you chant. The same prayers OVER and OVER again. Or you work around the place. Copy manuscripts. Cooking the meals. Sleeping for a bit then doing it all again. Often alone. Often in silence. Obeying rules that some higher up insists are for the good of the community. Whatever that means. 

Well, you'd be just about right if you described Benedict's idea of monasticism like that. I mean, there's a LOT more to it, but you wouldn't be too far off base. Home base. 

We know that because, as I said IN ALL CAPS above, Benedict wrote THE RULE. He figured that some of the fans might not realize how serious this thing was unless they had a pattern. With The Rule, they could learn how to be by being the how. Of course, there are other rules for monks, and they are sometimes known by the supposed author's name. Augustine, for example. Another Rule is just known as "The Master's Rule." We think that Benedict read it. But he shortened it, he cut out a LOT of the preaching, and he focused on love. But maybe not the kind of love we are used to hearing about. Although we might be thinking more about a different kind of love in the days ahead. One that says, for example, I love you so much I'm going to stay away from you.

I'm tired, and out of ironic practice. So I need to wrap this up. I intend to write a number of isolation meditations in the days and weeks and [?] ahead. They won't all be about Benedict or the Rule or the new monasticism to which we have been called or into which we have been forced (choose your prepositional phrase). Sort of like the X-Files, some will be on the "mytharc." In this case, that will be our new monasticism, not human/alien hybrids and an international conspiracy involving a cigerette-smoking man to suppress the truth "out there." At least I think it will be different. Other meditations will be on other aspects of what we are living through and facing and fighting and all that. And about learning how to love in this weird (it's a good Anglo-Saxon word, you can look it up too) time. Look at me, giving you "distanced" learning.

I have a rule now, not exactly Benedictine, but certainly influenced by The Rule and by the friend of ravens we honor today. I get up and put on the coffee. I take a shower and pray. I make a little something to eat (one egg or a bowl of cereal). Uh-oh, wait, I forgot to say I get dressed. That was supposed to be before "pray." All bets are off on how I come down to make the coffee. Anyway(s), then I get dressed in a monk's uniform. I don't have a monk's robe really, but I get dressed for work. Maybe even a little more dressed than I usually do/did. NO pjs. No sweatshirts. Even dress shoes most of the time. Then I work till lunch. I have something maybe to eat. If it's nice out, I take a short walk. I try to pray, but I sometimes don't get that done in the afternoon. Working on it. Then I work till 5 or 6. Then I change out of my uniform and into some sweats or something. Then I work around the house or play music or talk to my kids or my sister on the phone. Then I make a meal (and they are small and beautiful). Then I go on a loooong walk if the weather permits (3-5 miles). I see nobody. At least I don't get within 20 feet of anybody. I return home, exercise a bit more, take a hot shower, do evening prayer (Vespers, you can look it up), read and worry about COVID-19, especially the fact that the Midwest has had no basically no tests yet, play my guitar(s), try to write something.

I'd probably have a little drink in there somewhere. At least a glass of wine. But, before I knew I was going to become a neo-hermit, I just knew it was Lent. And I've got so few things to give up, so I gave up my occasional sip. In truth, some evenings when I'm worried, I'd like to have one. It will wait. I do have a hard time falling asleep though. I keep taking my temp. So far, so good.


I know, I know, Benedict doesn't say to get dressed up in your "office" clothes. But he does say this, in chapter 19 of The Rule. Talking about singing psalms, something monks do A LOT, he writes, "Let us consider, then, how we ought to behave in the presence of God and his angels, and let us stand to sing the psalms in such a way that our minds are in harmony with our voices." I take that to mean NOT just think about how you pray, but think about how to harmonize your mind and body with your work. And, for the monk, prayer is what they call "the work of God." They also call it, "the divine office." So, I just think, Ben, are you really going to do your best focused work today in your pjs and the old ripped record store t-shirt that you love so much? And I have to answer honestly, no Ben (meaning myself), I guess not. By the way, I'm not judging. It's hard, and we've all got to find our way (unless of course you'd like a new Ben to impose order on all the monks?). I've learned a lot from some parents who have an army of little monks in the house. The same lessons that we all need to learn: easy does it and take it slow. But do it. And take it. 

I'm just saying with any wisdom I have, and much of that gleaned from Saint Benedict, I think imposing some order on this chaotic, scary time can be a good thing. It's going to take some isolation. But isolation is not a vacation. Think of how hard we have to work to find ways to love through physical distancing. Think of how hard it will be just to work hard with focus if we don't set up rules about how much of the day we will live in "silence" away from our phones or our computer email/messenger/etc.

We're all monks now. It's not an option. And those who are not cloistered -- because they are needed on the front lines in hospitals and many other places -- need us to BE cloistered. We are helping them. Serving them. Loving them. By physical distancing and, if possible, isolation. And they need our prayers. And they need us to be completely serious about doing our best, because that is what we expect of them. 

Anyway(s), Peace pilgrims. Pray for me.

 The Monastery at Monte Cassino during World War 2.