P. Gorazd Cetkovský, O.Carm.
Now, brothers and sisters, I will briefly digress to enliven our interpretation of the rule. Throughout this narrative, I say: “Look, the rule of St. Albert is fundamentally a basic text for us, which the Carmelites have adhered to for eight hundred years. And it is still inspiring; therefore, I have the courage to present its interpretation to you, people living at the dawn of the third millennium, who have mobile phones in your pockets and, as people of today's fast-paced world, have many worries...” However, when we look more closely into history and track the role that the rule of St. Albert truly played in the history of Carmel, we find that it is not so simple at all. The brothers and sisters before us at certain times had a rather vague awareness of it, I would say. This is interesting. They did not analyze it as thoroughly as we do. For various reasons. I will mention just one, which is quite surprising.
In the Middle Ages, our brothers (but people of that time in general) were bold in how they created legends. Within that, they came to the conviction: “Look, if our order arose on Mount Carmel, then it must have existed continuously since the time of Elijah. Surely! Elijah must be the founder of the Carmelites! And the very first rule that the brothers had must have been given to them by this prophet!” It is said that they later received another rule from some bishop John of Jerusalem in the 5th century – that it was the second in the order. And then, allegedly, in the 13th century, this third one came – Albert's, which has survived to this day... It is not hard to imagine that for the brothers living in the atmosphere of these legends, Albert's text of the rule could not hold as extraordinary a weight as it does today for us.
I do not say this to drag you through the tiresome landscapes of overly tedious history. I mention this to show us that it is truly a grace that we today have a view of our rule cleansed of such layers. Yes, Elijah is the spiritual father of Carmel. From the beginning, our first brothers in the place where they settled on Carmel perceived that the local spring is named Elijah's, and that one of the caves here has borne for ages the name: Elisha’s abode. And always, when they read Scripture, they heard that Elijah was at Carmel, that he underwent a struggle with the pagan prophets there. And regarding Elisha, Scripture states that he went to Carmel. So, the connection of our community with the examples of the prophets Elijah and Elisha is undoubtedly present. But it is not a direct, historical continuity. That is only depicted by legends. Whereas we today clearly know that if we want to engage with the rules by which the first Carmelites actually lived, we find them precisely in Albert's rule.
In this brief excursion into the history of Albert's rule and how Carmel related to Albert's rule, I will also mention St. Teresa of Avila. She and the Discalced Carmelites speak of the "primitive rule" to which they wish to return, which they want to maintain. In the 15th century, the rule of St. Albert was mitigated by several decrees from subsequent popes. (These guidelines were not incorporated into the text of the rule itself; they were presented as additions to it, separately.) When St. Teresa discovered that the text of the rule initially existed without these additions, she wanted to adhere to it in its older, "primitive" form. But let us be calm: she did not have before her any other text than the one that we are commenting on in this reflection: the rule of St. Albert of Jerusalem, as it was modified and approved by Pope Innocent IV in 1247.1
Let us now return to the text of the rule and focus on further thoughts presented in it. Another interesting chapter for us is on possessions. Everyone – whether we like it or not – deals with possessions in life. And they have the power to captivate our hearts. If someone has possessions and more possessions, they can easily cling to them. But that danger also lurks for those who have no special possessions. Sometimes, we encounter that precisely the one who has none is so marked by it that they expect too much from possessions and that they actually cling to them far more than the one who has them. Here let us note that St. Albert tells the brothers: “Everything you have should be common.” This diminishes that pointed tip of our thinking: “This is mine; this is actually me...” Molière's Tartuffe, when his money is taken from him, cries: “Murder!” Not theft, but murder. He feels deprived of life, of himself. Whereas St. Albert teaches us to help ourselves with the attitude: “Everything you have should be common.”
And then – and this may sound foreign or even comic to us – the rule states: “... if necessary, you may have donkeys or mules and some useful animals or a small amount of poultry.” Here it is important to know the historical conditions under which this was said. The animals that are permitted here were not representative at all. The rule does not mention horses, which means: Carmelites were not allowed to have horses. So that they would not be proud, so that they would not set up a stud farm – something that might be profitable but could draw their hearts away from the Lord. On the other hand, the author of the rule was well aware (but this is precisely Innocent's addition, so those who modified Albert's rule in 1247 realized this) that the brothers also needed something to live on. To declare: “I do not need possessions,” or: “I do not care about possessions,” is strongman’s postures. That is not possible. We live on this earth and need things for our livelihood. But it is appropriate for those things to serve us, and not the other way around. And in this broader sense, what the rule prescribes for the monks is a stimulus that each of us can translate into our situations: possessions are only a means, merely a tool! A tool for being able to feed myself, to bring joy to someone else, to serve or contribute to someone who has less than I do. But material things must not be something that drags me through life.
Then St. Albert in a brief paragraph advises: “If it can easily be arranged, let a chapel be established in the midst of the enclosure, where you will gather every morning to celebrate the Eucharist, if it can be done without difficulty.” This is a very important provision. I have thought about it, that when Bishop Albert gives this instruction so succinctly, it may be a sign of how clearly he considers it important and that he sees no need to elaborate further. Often, when we want to convince someone about something and fear that we may not express it or that they may not understand, we elaborate and return to it again... But when we speak of things that we have, as they say, “sorted out,” we encompass it in one sentence and presume that the other person has sorted it out too. This is sometimes a problem with teachers or those who understand something: such a person will tell you in one breath and think that you are also “in the know.”
Compare this provision in the rule that if possible, the community should gather every morning for Mass, with one of the latest documents of the pontificate of John Paul II, titled: The Church Lives from the Eucharist. The Second Vatican Council and likewise these recent documents continually remind us that the Eucharist is the pinnacle and source of the life of the church. The text of our rule equally applies this to the community. I confess: however, the question “How to live this concretely?” still provokes me. It is easy to say that the Eucharist should be at the center. How do I prepare for Sunday Mass and how do I experience Sunday Mass so that it truly connects me with the parish? So that it is really the strongest thing I experience with other parishioners. And how am I to do this in community? How should I prepare for the Mass that I concelebrate with my brothers so that the Mass actually connects me with them? So that the statement that “the Eucharist is the pinnacle and source of the life of the church” is not just words written on paper that someone said. But so that I – perhaps not today, maybe in a year, maybe in ten years, perhaps in twenty years, but someday – could say: “I know what this is about. I know what Bishop Albert is talking about, and I know what John Paul II is calling us to. I already understand... ” Not because someone formulated it this way and I learned it from some book or document and since then I quote it, but because in my heart it is clear to me. Because I live it like that!...
Just as I have presented it now, brothers and sisters, it also concerns you – the laity. How to participate in the Holy Mass in the parish? I am now thinking especially of Sunday and festive Mass. How to experience it so that we go deeper, so that it truly becomes something that connects us with Christ and connects us with others?
Bishop Albert also imposes on us here to be at the Holy Mass every day. Brothers and sisters, I would like to encourage us to truly renew – purposefully and attentively – the ideal of being often at the Holy Mass. I do not say that we must start from tomorrow. Or from this week. Because I know that you have families, small children, and many commitments. I present it as an ideal. So that each of us has the desire within us: “Once I can, I will go to Mass more often.” Or: “If I could right now, I would go to Mass often...” It is important that we have such an ideal. Well – perhaps we may not be able to realize it for several years more. But it truly pains me when I see that not only are we few at Mass on weekdays, but that those who could already come do not. When their life in old age is slowly tilting, why not lean towards God – even this way? There is indeed a wonderful wisdom that older people used to attend Mass often. It has always been the case that on weekdays, there were primarily elderly people at Mass. I repeat again: I do not wish to insensitively press young families or those who are in full harness and who today work really as slaves much more than eight hours a day, and on top of this, impose the obligation to be at Mass on weekdays. Each of us knows our possibilities and what reserves we have. But let us have this ideal. Let us keep it before us as something we would one day like to achieve – when circumstances allow us.
Another concrete prompt to this topic: when we talk about the Eucharist being the center of our lives and the life of the community in which we live, let us also address the question: how to experience Sunday Mass when I cannot? For example, when I am ill. We know well at what hour Mass is at our place; it is not hard to imagine in our minds what is probably happening in the church right now: people are probably gathering (concrete figures and faces come to mind), they are already praying the rosary, they have already started the Mass, it is probably after the sermon, they are already distributing Holy Communion, they are already chatting outside the church and slowly dispersing... It is up to us, even though we are at home, in the hospital, or on the road, to find a way to connect with our community from afar. Okay, I cannot be there today; I lie sick in bed, but if my head is clear, why could I not pray precisely at that moment? To remember that I belong to that community and experience it even at a distance.
When we speak of the Eucharist as the center of our lives, I will add one more thought that sometimes arises quite urgently for me. That receiving Christ in the Eucharist should not be limited only to our usual environment: to our church and to the Holy Mass. Certainly, from us priests or those who serve in hospitals when administering the Eucharist, you often hear how painful it is for us when we come to the bed of the sick with the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist and that person assures us that they are a devout Catholic, that they were just in church last Sunday, that they had just been to confession a week ago, but that they will not go to Holy Communion here! That they will go “when they get home.” And that just because they are in a foreign environment... At that moment, it is often hardly possible to convince that person. Yet in that difficult situation of illness or injury (that is why they cannot be home), they remain without Holy Communion – just out of shyness. And out of little faith. Just because they never considered that such a situation could arise and that the Lord Jesus would want to strengthen them, even without the usual trappings of their home church. Therefore, I encourage you in this regard to set the ideal once again: if possible, I will want to receive Christ even in the hospital, in the nursing home – wherever I am. If the opportunity arises to receive the Lord Jesus in the Eucharist, then I will gratefully receive Him.
All of this came to my mind regarding St. Albert's instruction: if possible, let the community be together for Holy Mass every morning.
Furthermore, St. Albert prescribes a common consultation of the brothers, known as the chapter: “On Sundays or as needed on other days, discuss together matters of the salvation of souls and observance of all that pertains to your spiritual state; let the brothers who have been observed to have committed some transgression or offense be admonished with impartial love.” I would like to remind you of one theme, which however transcends me, which I cannot explain sufficiently, and thus I will only recommend it for our attention – and that is our responsibility.
We have a shared responsibility for receiving the gift of salvation we have received when we believed. And we have a shared responsibility for maintaining the lifestyle we have accepted, which flows from faith and to which we feel called and committed by God. And besides, there is also our mutual responsibility for one another. At various levels. In the community, in the family, in the parish, in other groups. It is not equally great everywhere; it is diverse, but it is there. Bishop Albert seems to tell us: “Look, brothers, gather every Sunday, and when you see that someone is not doing something right, tell them. Admonish them. Because it is important that you all aim for salvation and keep what I present to you here...”
I have already mentioned: I consider this topic very sensitive. In the past (for example, in the tradition of the desert fathers), the long-valued “fraternal admonition” is difficult for us, people of today. It is hard for us to admonish and hard to accept admonition. We are all too familiar with both extremes in this matter: constant insensitive censure and cowardly silence. We would like to safely avoid both. The temptation to resign and deny our share of responsibility may also press on us. And you see: our rule provokes us to reflect on this, to seek how to live this form of our mutual belonging and – I will use this term, even though it might be misused for manipulating others in this context – our mutual love. True brotherly love among us.
