At the end of the Rule of St. Benedict, this question put to the reader, presumably the monk; this question: “Are you hastening toward your heavenly home?”[1] At the end of that great spiritual text, that long rule of life, that’s the last question: “Are you hastening toward your heavenly home?” A leading question, really, because, presumably, the answer is yes. After reading all that the Rule contained, after imbibing all the wisdom and light of the Christian way, seeing Christ in it, of course, the answer should be yes. But is it? Are you hastening toward your heavenly home? Am I? I’ve always found that an interesting question, a challenging question, an increasingly challenging question the longer I am a Christian. Because I know myself, and I’m getting more honest about myself the older I get. And I just know how spiritually sluggish I can be.

Hastening is a theme for St. Benedict. He also uses the word “running” a lot in his Rule—currite. At the beginning of the Rule, St. Benedict wrote that if you have heard the voice of God, if you have seen God’s light, then, of course, you should, he said, “Run while you have the light of life, that the darkness of death may not overtake you.”[2] That is, to St. Benedict’s mind, for the converted Christian, within the converted Christian’s heart there should be an urgency, the desire to run toward God, in the ways of God, as quickly as you can. That is, there should be no lethargy about the spiritual life and the things of God in the heart of the converted Christian—no spiritual sluggishness, no “I’ll get to God later,” no putting the virtues on the back burner because you have a job to do, no putting off prayer because you’re busy. St. Benedict would write later in the Rule, that this sense of urgency should influence everything the Christian does. When the bell rings for prayer, the monk should run to the church, he said.[3] The Christian also runs to the kingdom of God “by doing good deeds,” he wrote. Again, this is just something I find interesting; it’s not something I think too much about, but maybe I should; maybe we all should think more about it—the spiritual speed of the Christian, the hastening influence of faith.

An odd reflection, I guess, but I’m thinking about that moment in this story Luke tells about Jesus getting into the boat, telling those fishermen, who had been out all day with nothing to show for it, to go out into the deep again and lower their nets again. A ridiculous command on the surface, that carpenter telling those fishermen what to do, as confident as any lawyer off topic. “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.”[4] Who are you, Jesus, to be telling me what to do? I’m the fisherman; this is my area of expertise, not yours. The Church can’t tell me what to do.

That’s probably what I would have said if it was me in that boat. That’s probably what I have said to God too many times to count in my life. Willful, stubborn, slow to be faithful, slow to obey: I can’t speak for you; maybe you’re better at this; maybe you offer God no resistance at all; maybe you’re some sort of saint—so beautiful, praise God. But maybe, like me, you do resist God at times. Maybe you know what I mean.

Which is why what Peter said, why what he did, is so inspiring to me—challenging and inspiring. St. John Henry Newman called it “instant obedience.”[5] “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing,” Peter said; but then, in the same breath: “but at your command I will lower the nets.”[6] Instant obedience, running toward the truth of God, hastening toward the heavenly homeland: that’s what real faith looks like, what the converted Christian should look like.

And so, that’s the measure, the litmus test. When the command comes, when you hear in your conscience the command to pray, the command to serve, the command to give to the poor, the command to love your enemy, the command to cease your sinful ways, the command to go to confession: what will you do? How quickly will you respond? How long will you delay? How much will you resist? How many good excuses will you make? I told you I found all this challenging; I hope you do too. I hope you’re wrestling with this too. Because, I’ll just be honest with you, I don’t think you can really be much of a Christian at all if you’ve not wrestled with this stuff—with your ego, with your will and the will of God.

Now I’m not getting onto anybody; I don’t want to be that sort of preacher today. It’s just it’s beautiful to obey God in this weary world. In fact, I think it’s one of the most beautiful things there is. And I want to be beautiful, not according to the glamour of the world but according to the beauty of Christ. And I hope you do too. I hope you want to be beautiful like that. I think some of you are beautiful already. Amen.

[1] The Rule of St. Benedict 73.8

[2] Ibid. Prologue 13; John 12:35

[3] Ibid. 43.1

[4] Luke 5:4

[5] John Henry Newman, “Divine Calls,” Newman at St. Mary’s, 7

[6] Luke 5:5

© 2025 Rev. Joshua J. Whitfield