BENEDICT’S MIRACLES IN PERSPECTIVE

The contrast between the Rule of Benedict and Gregory the Great’s biography of Benedict in Book Two of his Dialogues is most striking when it comes to miracles. There are miracles in the Rule, neither are there any hints to suggest that Benedict ever thought that miracles could happen. The closest Benedict comes to hoping for anything that could be thought a miracle is to hope that the twelve steps of humility might lead one to “that perfect love of God which drives out fear whereby one accomplishes “effortlessly, as if spontaneously, everything that [we] previously did out of fear.” (RB 7:67-68) or to hope that someone just might actually treat a poor or sick person as Christ. In daily life, experiences such as these are so rare as to seem miraculous indeed, and that may well be how Benedict himself perceived them. However, it is not of such miracles of the human heart that Gregory tells us in his Life of Benedict, but rather of earth-shaking miracles where Benedict causes water to flow from rocks or raises the dead to life. Anyone can be pardoned for wondering if the two documents have to do with the same person. At the very least, the perspectives of these two writings are very different. Benedict, as he presents himself in his Rule, would foster a person’s change of heart through a well-timed admonition, perhaps a sharp blow, or by listening deeply to the private confession of one’s inner thoughts. The Holy Spirit may be at work here, but the Spirit’s work is well hidden. In Gregory’s Life of Benedict, Benedict evokes a change of heart in the Goth Zalla by breaking the chains of Zalla’s prisoner with a mere look. In spite of the great difference between the two documents in the matter of miracles, however, there are a number of ways in which Gregory puts Benedict’s miracles in a perspective that is more consonant with the Benedict of the Rule. At times, René Girard’s mimetic theory will help us see how these miracles are put in their perspective.

Gregory himself helps us considerably in bringing the two documents together by referring to Benedict’s Rule at the end of the Life as a means of summing up the character of Benedict. Gregory tells his deacon, Peter, that the man who performed the miracles he has just narrated “was also very well-known for his words of doctrine.” This doctrine was taught in Benedict’s Rule that is “remarkable for its discretion and elegant in its language.” It is this Rule that reveals the “life and habits” of Benedict as “the holy man could not possibly teach other than as he lived.” (Dialogues 36) Gregory’s approbation of Benedict’s Rule invites us to look for ways some of the miracles reflect the values Benedict teaches in his Rule.

We need look no further for a striking example than the first miracle narrated in Gregory’s life. This miracle is framed by acts of humility by which Benedict turns away from temptations of pride. First, Benedict abruptly leaves his studies of the liberal arts in Rome as soon as he starts them for fear that the “the worldly knowledge...would suck him down entirely into its bottomless whirlpool.” (D II prologue) Here Gregory uses a powerful image of the mimetic process in society where, in an academic setting, Benedict could be tempted to imitate his fellow students in both competitiveness and sensual indulgence. Wishing to follow the contrary desire to “please God alone,” Benedict fled from Rome to a place called Effide with the nurse who had nurtured him all his life up to this time. Here is where Benedict performed his first miracle. When his nurse broke a winnowing dish she had borrowed, Benedict responded to her distress by weeping and praying over the dish until the dish was made whole with no sign of breakage. In lecturing on the Life of Benedict, William Franklin suggested that it is fitting that the first miracle performed by Benedict, a practical man devoted to manual labor that the Rule reveals him to be, would be a miracle useful for common work. Benedict’s response to the renown caused by this miracle is just as important. When the miraculously repaired dish was hung outside the church porch (thus negating its usefulness) Benedict fled, this time without his nurse, “into the desert” as he did not want to become “puffed up by the favors of this life.” (D II 1:3) The phrase “puffed up” is one Benedict himself uses often to show his abhorrence of pride of any sort.

Many of the miracles that followed were equally useful. Benedict struck a rock to bring out water because the monks needed water. Benedict saved another borrowed took, an axe dropped into the water, by causing the axe head to float to the water’s surface. More telling is the way Benedict combated the devil in the course of building the monastery on Monte Cassino. Benedict did not fight the devil for the sake of fighting the devil, which would be mimetic rivalry all over again. Rather, Benedict used the power of his prayer to move a stone the devil was sitting on because the stone had become an obstacle to the work of building. For all of his compassion for a youth crushed by a falling wall at the devil’s instigation, Benedict brought the youth back to life so that he could return to the work he was doing. All of these miracles, moreover, were done secretly, without any fanfare by which Benedict might call attention to himself. Gregory emphasizes the practical effects of these miracles and Benedict’s compassion for those who are aided by them.

In stories where Benedict demonstrates prophetic gifts such as seeing events from afar or perceiving levels of reality not normally visible to humanity, the emphasis is placed both on Benedict’s concern both for sound monastic observance and for other people. It is not surprising that Benedict, who said the “nothing should be put ahead of the Work of God,” should show his zeal in the way he treated monks who disobeyed this injunction. Benedict probably did not need supernatural insight to perceive the work of a demon in a monk who restlessly absented himself from prayer since the monk’s actions were enough to manifest the demonic influence. (D 4:2) Likewise, Benedict could have assumed the same demonic influence on a monk who was drawing water from a well when he should have been praying at the Work of God. (D 30:1) In both instances, both the ministry of prayer and the use of a sharp blow which Benedict enjoins in the Rule for delinquent monks solve the problem. In another incident, Benedict reads the thoughts of a monk, the son of a magistrate, who was asked to hold a lamp for Benedict during supper. It seems quite possible that the young man’s mien made his thoughts plain enough to an observant abbot. In any case, Benedict shows concern for the spiritual well-being of the monk who was being devoured by pride and by sending the monk away, opened his heart to humility. (D: 20:1-2)

In two related incidents, Benedict catches out disciples who eat at times and places when they are not supposed to. In the first, a group of monks who were working outside the monastery by accepted a meal from a pious woman. In the second, a lay disciple of Benedict who was under no such obligation but had taken on the custom of fasting during his journey to visit the abbot succumbed to temptation and ate on the way. Here, Benedict is concerned with a violation of the Rule which forbids eating outside the monastery without express permission from the abbot (RB 51) and with a discipline that a lay disciple had publically imposed on himself. Deacon Peter points out that Benedict has imitated Elisha in his ability to read hearts. Unlike Elisha, however, Benedict responded with forgiveness in both of these cases while Elisha’s vindictively cursed his disciple Gehazi with the same leprosy that had afflicted Nahaman. These incidents suggest further that Benedict was not as stern in dealing with people as his own statements in Rule might lead one to expect when satisfaction was promptly and humbly offered.

More dramatic is the story where Totila, the Gothic ruler, comes to visit Benedict’s monastery. It should be noted that for a period of eighteen years, during which Benedict was establishing his monastery at Monte Cassino, a civil war was raging throughout the Italian peninsula that the Byzantine Emperor Justinian started with an invasion aimed at driving out the Goths who had usurped that portion of the Roman Empire. Totila, one of the most important of men in the Italian peninsula both socially and politically, arrogantly tried to make a fool of Benedict by disguising himself as a humble soldier and dressing up a humble soldier as the Gothic king. Benedict, however, effortlessly saw through the ruse and turned the tables on Totila by rebuking him for his trickery. Both the soldier and Totila fell to the ground and remained there until Benedict deigned to raise them up. Far from gloating over his supremacy over the king, Benedict cut to the heart of the matter by rebuking Totila for his cruel actions and prophesying his death in ten years. Gregory then says that, “from that time on, [Totila] was less cruel” and that he was killed ten years later. De Vogüé notes that the Totila’s falling down before Benedict recalls Ananias and Sapphira falling down before Peter when they are rebuked for their avarice and dishonesty, but Totila survives the ordeal, at least for a time. Again, Benedict makes no effort to perform a miracle and show himself concerned only with the state of Totila’s heart and with the effect this man has on other people.

The social concern that led Benedict to remind his monks that Christ was especially present in the poor and the sick is illustrated in two further miracles. In one, Benedict spent two days in prayer for a man who was hopelessly unable to pay a debt of twelve pounds. At the end of the two days, thirteen pounds were miraculously found in the monastery. Benedict gave this money to the poor debtor who was even provided with one extra pound to how own provision beyond the debt. (D 27: 1-2) More telling is a pair of miracles that took place during a famine. Benedict had given everything away to his starving neighbors except for one last phial of oil. When a subdeacon came and asked for some oil, Benedict ordered that this phial be given him. To Benedict’s chagrin, this monk did not obey his abbot, but kept the phial of oil. When Benedict found out that he had been disobeyed, he had the phial thrown out the window. It landed on rock but, miraculously, it did not break. Once again, Benedict was not even trying to perform a miracle; he was acting in anger that his generosity to the poor had been thwarted by one of his own monks. After giving the phial to the subdeacon, thus leaving the community with nothing at all, Benedict led the community in prayer. Before long, a previously empty container so overflowed with oil that Benedict had to stop his overly successful prayer to keep more oil from spilling. (D 28-29) Interlaced with these miracles are three other healing miracles where, once again, Benedict’s work of prayer is emphasized, thus showing that Benedict’s concentration on the monastic round of prayer was the source of the miracles that were performed.

Gregory caps his miracle stories with two great miracles that are narrated in some detail. These miracles are prefaced by Peter’s question as to whether or not miracles are performed through power or through prayer. Gregory answers that “those who adhere to God with a devoted mind usually produce miracles in both ways.” (D 30:2)

In the miracle of power, the Goth Zalla brings a captive peasant in chains to Benedict because the peasant said he had entrusted his property to the monastery. Benedict, who was reading at the time, looked up at his visitors and the chains fell away instantly. It is noteworthy that Benedict was engaging in the holy reading he enjoined on his monks in his Rule at the time and that he made no conscious effort to effect the miracle. Not even when Zalla, like Totila, fell to the ground in awe, did Benedict stop reading, but he had Zalla taken inside and given some blessed bread, after which Benedict told the Goth “to desist from such insane cruelty.” (D 30: 1-3) Here we see both Benedict’s concern for the poor and his pastoral concern for a perpetrator of violence.

In the second miracle, a peasant brought to Benedict his son who had just died in the fields. Benedict insisted that he had no power to bring the boy back to life but he prayed: “Lord, do not look on my sins, but on the faith of this man who asks that his son be brought back to life.” No sooner was the prayer said then the boy came back to life. In contrast to Benedict’s raising to life the boy who was crushed by a wall in the privacy of his cell, this miracle was very public and dramatic. At the same time, Benedict has also publically disowned any power within himself to perform such a miracle. Furthermore, this miracle, like the last, demonstrate Benedict’s Benedict’s conviction that Christ is most present in the poor and the helpless and not the rich who more readily gain respect of their own accord.

The narratives that follow put even these climactic miracles in a deeper perspective. Peter asks Gregory: “are the saints able to do everything they wish and do they obtain all that they desire?” (D 32: 4) This question is understandable in that the miracle stories give the impression that Benedict has perfect control over everything. However, this question is answered with a humorous story that shows not only Benedict’s failure to get his own way through prayer but a flaw in his own character. Benedict holds his annual meeting with his sister Scholastica who was herself a nun. After spending the day in joyful holy conversation, Benedict said that he must return to his monastery but Scholastica asked her brother to continue the conversation throughout the night. Benedict responded: “My sister, what are you saying? It is completely impossible for me to remain outside my cell.” In response, Scholastica bowed her head in prayer. At that time, the sky, that had been perfectly clear until then, clouded over and then it began to rain so hard as to make it impossible for Benedict to step out of the house where they were meeting. Gregory goes on to explain that Benedict wanted to fair weather to continue so that he could return to his cell but his sister wanted Benedict to be forced to remain with her. Although a woman was theoretically weaker than an abbot, in Benedict’s mind anyway, it was the woman who performed the miracle. Gregory says that this should be no surprise because John said that “God is love” and Scholastica could accomplish more “because she loved more.” (D 33: 5) In this story, Benedict is concerned with what he wants while in the preceding miracle stories, he was concerned only with the needs of others. Moreover, this story shows that however commendable was Benedict’s devotion to his monastic Rule, not even this discipline was as important as an act of love fitting for the specific occasion before Benedict. This incident is the one time where Gregory shows Benedict actively engaging in mimetic rivalry and Benedict loses. Here, Benedict’s human weakness is exposed not only in being outmaneuvered by his sister’s miracle but, more important, in his lack of love compared to that of his sister. Three days later, Scholastica was further vindicated by God when Benedict received a vision of his sister entering Heaven in the form of a dove.

Following the Scholastica story, Benedict received another holy visitor, the deacon and abbot Secundus and, as with Scholastica, Benedict discussed the yearning for heaven with his guest. That night, Benedict retired to his cell at the top of his tower while Secundus occupied a room below. While standing before the window, praying, Benedict “saw a light spreading from on high and completely repelling the darkness of the night. It shone with such splendor that it surpassed the light of the day.” This vision of divine light proved to be the prelude to a deeper vision where Benedict saw the whole world “brought before his eyes, gathered up, as it were, under a single ray of sun.” In the midst of this light, Benedict saw the soul of a holy bishop named Germanus ascend to heaven. Benedict cried out to his friend below to come up and share this wonder. (D 35:2-3)

This vision can be interpreted as showing us how small and insignificant the world is. In one respect it does that. All of the human passions that work themselves out in mimetic rivalry are overwhelming when we are caught up in them, but from a view above the fray, they become so small as to drop out of sight altogether in the “splendor of shining light.” We have here a vision of the world redeemed in the radiance of God’s light. In this respect, I can’t help but recall Julian of Norwich’s vision of the whole world collapsed into a single hazelnut held in God’s hands. Far from being insignificant to God, the hazelnut is greatly treasured by God. Likewise, the whole earth gathered into a single ray of light is surely treasured by God as much as Benedict treasured the peasants whom he helped with his last great miracles.

Gregory’s explanation of this vision to Peter who is, understandably, puzzled by it, corroborates this point. Gregory explains that the whole of creation may seem small to the soul who in comparison with the light of the Creator but it is not the case that the world has really shrunk into insignificance. Rather, “in the very light of the internal vision the capacity of the soul is enlarged; it is so expanded in God that it is placed above the world.” That is, the soul is “expanded interiorly” so that the soul “understands how small is that which she could not comprehend in her more humble state.” It is not the world that has grown small, but that Benedict’s soul has been enlarged by the grace of God.

Many years earlier, Benedict fled the “bottomless whirlpool” in Rome where he feared he would be sucked into the dissolute life-style he found there. When his first miracle led to praise and renown that seemed dangerous to the virtue of humility, Benedict fled again. When temptations to engage in direct mimetic rivalry with others presented themselves, Benedict fled from the monks who tried to poison him and from the local priest who slandered him. Now, many miracles later, there was no need to flee because God had dissolved all of Benedict’s miracles in a ray of light. Neither the miracles performed by Benedict nor Benedict’s failure of charity with his sister nor the attempted poisoning so many years earlier matter any more. All is drowned in God’s light. This light shows us how small and narrow everything in the world is but it also shows us that everything in the world is precious enough is in God’s eyes to be bathed in God’s light.