Today’s Chapter: Mary, ‘the Church’s Memory’
Chapter 7: Of Humility (vv.10-12)
The first degree of humility, then, is that a man, always keeping the fear of God before his eyes, avoid all forgetfulness; and that he be ever mindful of all that God hath commanded, bethinking himself that those who despise God will be consumed in hell for their sins, and that life everlasting is prepared for them that fear Him. And keeping himself at all times from sin and vice, whether of the thoughts, the tongue, the hands, the feet, or his own will, let him thus hasten to cut off the desires of the flesh.
The first degree of humility, which we begin today, is in fact one of the longest sections of the Holy Rule. This first degree alone is read over four consecutive days—more time than is spent on Chapter 64 on the appointment of the Abbot, and the same that is spent on Chapter 4’s Instruments of Good Works. If Saint Benedict seems to belabour the point about this first degree, it is because it is the foundation of all else. Indeed, while the image of the ladder with its twelve degrees is a useful mnemonic device,[1] it would be a mistake to think that, having mastered the first degree of humility, one then moves on to the second, and so forth. The degrees of humility all exist and grow together. It is sometimes said in moral theology that one cannot truly possess any virtue without possessing all the other virtues, and the same could be said of the degrees of humility. For ultimately the spiritual life is about becoming like unto God, Who is completely simple; what to us appear as distinct perfections in God—justice and mercy, wisdom, power and love—are all one in the absolute simplicity of His essence. In an analogous way, it can be said that all of the degrees of humility, indeed all of the monastic life, is contained in this first degree: living in the continual remembrance of the presence of God.
Madre Cànopi comments on this degree:
‘The first degree of humility consists in placing always before one’s eyes the fear of God, in order to avoid in a most absolute manner living like those who are unmindful.’ (v. 10). Rightly defined by John Paul II as ‘the Church’s memory’[2], Mary lived continually remembering the goodness of the Lord and His wondrous interventions in history, which she guarded in her heart along with the whole Word on which she was constantly nourished (cf. Lk 2:19,51). Praised by Elizabeth for her faith, Mary responds to her aged relative’s praise with the Magnificat, in which, withdrawing all attention from herself, she sings of God’s fidelity in fulfilling His promises and in showing mercy to the descendants of Abraham—our father in the faith—from generation to generation. (Anna Maria Cànopi, Nel ‘Sì’ di Maria, translation by a Benedictine monk, pp. 48)
Memory, then, is one of the chief characteristics of Mary, and should be of every Christian. ‘Do not forget the works of the Lord!’, the Scriptures continually admonish us. For the ancients and medievals, training the memory was not simply a useful academic device, but was an essential part of one’s moral formation. It is no accident that at the heart of the sacred action which is the source of the Church’s life is the Lord’s command: ‘Do this in memory of Me.’ Unde et memores, ‘whence also being mindful’, the Roman Canon continues, immediately after the Consecration. Through lectio divina, through the continual praying of the Psalms, through meditation on the Holy Rosary, may this memory of God’s faithfulness which is at the heart of the Holy Mass extend all through our life, so that we may acquire the fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wisdom.
[1] On the use of such memory devices in learning in ancient and medieval culture, see Mary Carruthers, The Book of Memory: A Study of Memory in Medieval Culture, 2nd edition, Cambridge, 2008.
[2] John Paul II, Homily of 1 January 1987.