For better or worse, as Americans we live in a highly mobile society. Whether moving for work or family or school, fewer and fewer of us can afford to remain in the same place for long, and even the simple question “Where are you from?” becomes difficult to answer. Less and less likely to stay in the communities where we grew up, it starts to feel like the ground is always moving under our feet. I think that’s one of the reasons I find the Benedictine hallmark of stability so beautiful and so necessary.
As Benedictines, the monks of Belmont Abbey make a vow of stability, committing themselves to love God in this place and this community, here and now. In a sense, the Abbey itself, the college, and even the local region, all play an essential part in the story of these faithful vocations.
By their prayers and work, the monks continually choose and love this place. They always have. During the Great Depression, the monks of Belmont Abbey fed the local people from the produce of their farm. Two decades earlier, Abbot Leo Haid even took on the pastoral care of all North Carolina as bishop, maintaining this for the western half of the state between the creation of the Raleigh and Charlotte Dioceses. His service continually strengthened the region that the Abbey calls home. And throughout the 150 years of its history, Belmont Abbey has welcomed and stewarded this corner of the world in countless ways.
The monastic community of Belmont Abbey embraces a level of stability beyond what most of our concrete circumstances may allow. But even at times of great change or movement in our lives, the monks’ prayerful and faithful way of life can remind us that the source of our true stability is ultimately Christ. Pilgrims in a changing world, we can always plant our feet on solid rock. We can always love those around us.
When our monks pray the Hours or attend Mass in the Abbey Basilica, when they work on the grounds or inside the monastery, or when they walk under the old trees along Abbey Lane, they do so with grateful care for their home, but they also know that they, too, are pilgrims. When we love our homes and the people in them, likewise, we embrace hope in our ultimate stability, eternal life with God.
This weekend, let’s ask God for the grace to see in our homes and our communities the rich ground of our vocations. Let’s remember, too, that God has an eternal place prepared for us. And as we observe Memorial Day this coming Monday, let’s pray for all those enlisted men and women who gave their lives to safeguard our freedoms. They, too, remind us of the stability that springs from sacrificial love of home.
