If you’re looking for a guide on how to live with other people and be communal, you might read “The Rule of Saint Benedict,” written in 530. This is of course Benedict of Nursia, who is considered by some as the founder of western Christian monasticism. Nearly half a century after having penned his book, he was canonized as the patron saint of Europe.
This book consists of daily readings, originally meant for the fellow monks of St. Benedict’s community. His monastery was atop a craggy mountain overlooking the town of Cassino, where it is said a shrine to Apollo once stood, and where they Abbey of Montecassino still stands.
In the prologue, Benedict clearly states his intention. “And so,” he writes, “we are going to establish a school for the service of the Lord.” He adds that in founding such an institution, he did not wish to introduce anything too “harsh or burdensome.”
Much of what follows seem to belie this hope, however, as Benedict goes on to detail the correct way that nearly every aspect of life in the community is to be conducted. From practicals like “On the Measure of Food and Drink” and “Whether Monks Ought to Have Anything of Their Own,” to more esoteric topics such as “On The Spirit of Silence” or “On the Good Zeal Which Monks Ought to Have,” and “If a brother is Commanded to do Impossible Things.”
Yet, Benedict moves quickly to temper what could be seen as harsh when he writes, “But if a certain strictness results from the dictates of equity or the amendment of vices or the preservation of charity, do not be at once dismayed and fly from the way of salvation, whose entrance cannot be but narrow.”
He then concludes, “For as we advance in the religious life and in faith, our hearts expand and we run the way of God’s commandments with the unspeakable sweetness of love ….”
In March, I visited the Abbey of Montecassino, where I met Sister Martha, whom I wrote about in part two of this photo-essay series. In this third and final part, I focus on the hours we shared at Montecassino in which she illustrated for me, in no uncertain terms, “the unspeakable sweetness of love.”











