The Anchoress

The Anchoress’ own lovely statue of St. Benedict

…You ought to use the greatest caution, even in doing good things. For it may be that, in carrying out some good works, you are seeking only the favor and good graces of men: or the desire of praise may overtake you, and what is done for outward effect, fail in its inward reward.
- Pope St. Gregory the Great (Homily 12 on the Gospels)

“Hypocrisy in anything whatever may deceive the cleverest and most penetrating man, but the least wide-awake of children recognizes it, and is revolted by it, however ingeniously it may be disguised”
- Tolstoy

I think most of us have generous hearts, and the things we do - the volunteer work we take on, or the advocacy we engage in - we begin with pure intentions and little thought for what personal gain our doings may reap. We take on a cause because we really want to help and then perhaps find ourselves the recipient of some public recognition, gushes, little plaques noting our willingness to share time and talent…perhaps sometimes gifts come our way….(I once helped someone out and was very surprised to receive two tickets to the Philharmonic for my very small, barely thought about, effort) - and because it feels kind of nice to be stroked and feted, we begin to lose sight of why we began a thing in the first place. We continue to do the work, because we still believe in it, but when the strokes stop coming because people begin to take your participation for granted (and that always happens) it is not unusual for someone to step up their committment, make themselves more visible, seem more tireless and passionate, in order to keep the praise and applause coming.

And that is when things risk becoming out-of-balance and distorted. That is when we opened ourselves up to allowing our good works to become less about the work and more about us.

And when that happens…well…then it’s easy to fall into a “do as I say, not as I do,” mentality, which is an out-of-balance mentality.

I’m a priest; my consecration is now so ordinary to me that I don’t think about the scandal if I am using foul language in conversation.

I love Jesus and am so protective of Him that I don’t realize that sometimes I come off like a Proud Pharisee and not a Penitant Publican.

I’m an environmentalist and I’ve done so much to raise awareness that I don’t really have to worry about the mines on my property, or flying my private jets because - thanks to me and my advocacy - a million little people will do their part to make up for that pollution.

I’m a political leader who throws so much money at foundations and charities that it doesn’t matter if I am a Destructor of Others Personal Lives.

I’m a teacher, and I’m committed to educating young minds, but that doesn’t extend to allowing them to think outside my parameters.

I’m a journalist who went into the craft because I wanted tell true stories…but these are complex times with relative truths, and so I can completely bury stories of progress in Iraq while sobbing about a lack of progress in Kosovo because it’s for a greater good, as informed by my worldview.

We all have something about which we are hypocritical at least sometimes. My husband is an uber-volunteer for church and many organizations, but sometimes he’s just a grouchy, distracted pain in the patoot. I’m a Christian woman who has been told on more than one occasion that she writes like “an intelligent, erudite caveman. With club.”

None of us cover ourselves in glory all the time. Some of us, yer Anchoress included, routinely yell at others about the shovels in their yards while hitting ourselves in the face with our rakes. None are perfect, save Christ.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to nurture enough of an interior life - a habit of honest occasional introspection, if not prayer - to at least ask ourselves, “how am I doing, here? Am I still doing this because I believe in it and want to serve it, or because it has begun to serve ME well? Am I balanced about what I am taking and receiving? Am I enjoying the praise a little too much and losing touch with the fact that deep down, I’m still a bit of a dork, and that I know it, even if no one else seems to?

I think we’re all frauds now and again. Perhaps how deeply fraudulent we are may be measured by how willing or unwilling we are to laugh at ourselves, or to admit mistakes and failings.

When I was a little girl we Catholics were taught to spend some time before bed each night in an “examination of conscience,” which may be plainly thought of as a review of our day in light of the Ten Commandments, but of course can go much deeper than that. People talk of “Catholic guilt,” but I think of it as “Catholic consciousness” - of a way for us to remain “in balance,” and to maintain our grasp, however lightly we may, on the fact that we all have moments when we are complete asshats.

That self-awareness may be the thing that can keep us humble, so that we don’t fall so easily into the scandalous sin of hypocrisy, which never helps any cause.

Perhaps the ability to balance our work with some sort of interior life is why The Rule of St. Benedict has been practiced for 1500 years by monastic communities (and lately in business and at home) - because it teaches one to be mindful of balance.

Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.
- Thomas Merton, Trappist Monk (Under the Rule of St. Benedict)

UPDATE: Into Great Silence is finally playing in limited release around the country. Even The NY Times gave it a rave. If you can get a chance, maybe try to see it now, during Lent! And see Ambivablog’s fascinating link on this film!

Also, go check out Gerald’s lovely photographs which may spur you on to a bit of meditation!