pat loughery

My heart and soul are turning, these days, to thoughts of a new type of monasticism. I find great hope in the fact that many others are being pulled this way as well. In my reading, my studies, my blog-surfing and my interpersonal networking, I find a web of people and communities who are devoting themselves to a new type of monasticism – and many, to an ancient type of monasticism as well. It’s clear to me that God is at work; Aslan is on the move; the wild goose of the Holy Spirit is in flight.

A few resources that may be helpful to you in considering these new forms of monasticism:

• The Prayer Foundation’s article on new monasticism
• Ruthba House’s leadership in simple, new monasticism
• Ray Simpson’s book, A Pilgrim Way: New Celtic Monasticism for Everyday People (not yet available in the US, but I can’t recommend this highly enuogh).

I spent last Friday night with a small group of Seattleits who meet with each other in pursing creative forms of church. One of them, Dwight Friesen, was asking me about my studies and life in general, and specifically what it was about the monastic spirituality that I find so appealing. It’s a difficult question to answer, really – but there are some key parts that I’m sure about.

I love the reality of spiritual formation being a community practice: As much as I think of myself as an individual, I know that I grow best in relationship with others who challenge me, support me and encourage me. And bust my chops.

I love the reality of prayer as a community activity. As much of an introvert as I am, I recognize that when faith communities gather, part of their mission is prayer as a missional worship act with God.

I love the reality of a rhythm of common life. At this stage of my life, I know that I’m not called to live in a community home with other individuals or families (the times we’ve tried that, even unintentionally, made this point clear). However, there’s a rhythm of life embedded in monasticism which I deeply appreciate.

I love the spiritual discipline of hospitality. As much as I value my privacy, I know that the truth of the Gospel is that (as my pastor said this past weekend), the Gospel isn’t the Gospel unless it’s your opposite as much as it is for you.

I love the monastic emphases on simplicity and generosity.  As difficult as it is for me to practice simplicity in my financial life, I know that these disciplines fuel social justice and a recognition of others’ needs in relationship to my own wants.

I love my community. As much as I love the city, I know that my place – at least for the time being – is in the suburbs settled in the mountains, beside the river. I love the cultural mix that I find when I’m in the city core, but I continue to see that God’s invitation to my family is to be where we are. Perhaps, over time, this location changes. Perhaps not. And suburbia and suburbanites certainly have as much of a claim to the good news of the hope we have in Jesus as the urban dwellers.

I know that a monasticism which engages me will have to take these items very seriously, and provide a way for me to follow the Trinity missionally in my suburb.