From time to time I like to offer particular saints as sources of inspiration and models of virtue. And since this is the Feast of St. Scholastica, I just can’t pass up the opportunity to take a peek at her story today. After all, she’s St. Benedict’s beloved twin sister, and at Belmont Abbey College, she has a special place in our Benedictine hearts.
The founder of an order of nuns based a few miles from her brother’s monastery in Monte Casino, Scholastica spearheaded the women’s Benedictine movement alongside Benedict’s masculine order. In fact, my favorite story about St. Scholastica hinges on her proximity to Benedict, in more ways than one.
Once a year, the twins would meet to spend a day at a farmhouse between their communities, where they prayed, discussed spiritual matters and shared what amounted to an annual retreat. It was a blessing to which they always looked forward, a period of refreshment and fellowship.
On what would be their final meeting before her death, Scholastica asked Benedict to stay and continue their prayer and reflection through the night. But her brother refused, reminding her that this contravened the rule of his order, by which monks weren’t permitted to spend nights outside the monastery.
I like to imagine the scene that followed: Scholastica bowing her head and folding her hands quietly, as Benedict walks to the door and stops, stares out at the sudden storm, which is rapidly gathering in what had been, up to then, an immaculate sky. Turning back to his sister with consternation, he demands, “What have you done?” But she looks up and smiles, shrugging that “I asked for something and you refused, so I asked God and he granted it.”
I always enjoy the gutsy mixture of trust and love in that story – and the tenderness and sense of humor in her relationship, not only with Benedict – with whom she models the kind of Platonic friendship that embraces a shared journey toward the Good – but also with God. She asks without presuming, and the response she receives is a seamless expression of merciful love, through which she enjoys a few more hours of Benedict’s prayerful companionship before their earthly separation. St. Scholastica reminds me that God is playful and kind, and that when He seems to be thwarting my intentions – as Benedict may have felt, looking out at the storm – He’s actually offering a different gift.
St. Scholastica, pray for us!
