The historical change which has occurred in society and in the Church’s perspectives (since Vatican II) creates a new situation, wherein monks also are called upon by the Council to rethink their relationships with other peoples and particularly with their brothers and sisters of the great non-Christian spiritual traditions. Similarly, the latter too are forced by the current of history to question themselves about their own identity and the meaning of their existence within their own society.

The Apostolic Letter which the Pope (John Paul II) sent out for the XVth Centenary of St. Benedict’s birth begins with these words: “In all religions there are those who, in their endeavor to appease in one way or another the cravings of the human heart, are drawn towards the Absolute and the Eternal.” In fact, the attraction exercised by the Absolute and the Eternal, and the resulting detachment from transitory features of life is a constant element of universal monasticism. . . . According to Ch. Dumont: “What seems to be the only constant characteristic of all forms of monasticism—Christian or not—is the conviction that the quest for the Absolute demands from man his detachment from the transitory elements of life. The monastic intuition presupposes an interior conviction of the reality of the transcendent, and of the need to discover and to follow a discipline or a method, in order to pass from frustration to completeness, as the meaning of existence is to be found above it, in this transcendence.” (Bulletin de Spiritualité monastique, X, 1977, 148).

There are some invariable human qualities, which are in the last analysis, rooted in Wisdom and in the divine creative Word. It is thanks to such common elements that one can speak of the “monastic archetype” existing in the human race and it is both a duty and a pleasure to discover and to analyze this phenomenon with the help of modern scientific methodology: the search for the Absolute and the Permanent; detachment from the transitory and ephemeral; asceticism and freedom of the spirit; rules of living and discipline; personal poverty and spiritual wealth; humility and a sense of one’s limitations; peace and silence; gentleness and benevolence; purity and sobriety.

This archetype, which has flourished in diverse but similar forms among all peoples has been subject throughout history to the influences of ideologies and of founders who have adapted it to the various historic, geographical and cultural situations in which their lives were passed. Hence, the historian may say that, whereas the effects of Bodhidharma’s work were decisive in the Far East, in the West the same was true for the work of St. Antony, St. Pachomius, St. Basil and finally St. Benedict. It was thanks to the work of these great masters that Christianity’s own unmistakable features were imposed upon the “human” monastic archetype in the West.

Whereas in the Orient, the Hindu, Buddhist and Taoist traditions that Bodhidharma represented, impel the spiritual seeker towards the self-realization of his “profound nature” and the identification of the self with Nature, leading to a “motionless repose of the spirit in its true form” (Yogasutra, IV, 34), there is, in Christianity, a bi-polarization—yet without confusion— of individual and community, solitude and sharing, cell and choir stall, individual prayer and eucharistic celebration. All of these states of being gravitate around the ruling presence of Jesus Christ, “Lord of the depths of my spirit.”

I now come to the matter of meeting and dialogue which appear to us to be imperative in this our own period of history. Dialogue is not a confrontation between opposing ideologies, but an encounter between two of the “living universes” which are human beings. The men are often better than their ideas, richer and more unpredictable than the formulas they use. Intermonastic dialogue is possible only when the Christian monk is truly living his own identity; and when he expresses his fundamental choice in a concrete and coherent manner, he provokes surprise, wonder and expectancy in his interlocutor. For a monk, the cutting edge of dialogue is the total living out of his own vocation. . . . I have no hesitation in stating that all dialogue depends on the coherence, the style and the beauty of living out one’s own Christian and Benedictine identity.

Yet, for the spark of dialogue to burst into flame, this crystal-clear identity of Jesus Christ’s kalos stratiotes (“good soldier,” II Tim. 2:3) should go hand in hand with an attitude of openness, humility and attention to the other person. The monk has to be aware that “God is greater than our heart” (I Jn 3:20); that his Wisdom rejoices to dwell among the sons of men (Prov. 8:31); that “He made from one single stock every nation of men to live on the whole face of the earth . . . that they should seek God” (Acts 17:26–27); that “the seeds of contemplative life were sown here and there in ancient civilizations before the preaching of the Gospel” (A.G. 18); and that it is a law of life that “one grows through the help of others” (Kierkegaard).

The grace of being inspired by Christ does not bestow upon us a monopoly of the Spirit of God. While we are sure of the Truth, we have no exclusive control over it, and even though the path traced out for us by Christ in the Gospel is perfectly illuminated, he himself wants all men to go in search of his mystery. Therefore, it is the Christian monk’s duty to be understanding about the efforts made, in the past and still today, by this world’s spiritual seekers to find God, whatever the face they may give to him.

The Christian monk must make an inventory of his own soul, learning to recognize the limitations of his own subjectivity and his own culture, and especially of the manner in which he personifies and expresses the sequela Christi. The fact of his eschatological witness does not exempt him from feeling that he is a pilgrim in the world along with so many other brothers, “with whom we ought to meet together . . . like pilgrims journeying forth to look for God, not in human edifices but in men’s hearts.” (Paul VI Discourse made to non-Christian monastics in India, Oss. Rom., Dec. 4, 1964). By this attitude of humility and openness, the Christian monk will allow the other person to look at him and assess him, and this, through the path he had already trodden towards the purifying of his heart and the assumption of the divine nature, can help him to bring out unsuspected aspects of his own tradition, to be enriched and to “discover the Orient within himself.”

The vital points in the problem of acculturation are, on the one hand, to sacrifice no part of one’s identity and on the other, not to barricade oneself in any ivory tower. Acculturation is a living process, continuous and without haste, achieved through a gracious and open attitude, “that the word of the Lord may speed on and triumph” (II Thess. 3:1). Benedictine traditions cannot be rejected, but there is no doubt that they can be extended, expanded and adapted to the genius and the culture of different peoples.

Still more important is the question of adapting oriental methods in order to come into contact with the inner self, and the using of these techniques to attain a spiritual experience. Here I am referring particularly to Yoga, Zen and Transcendental Meditation. Everyone knows or should know that even the methods and forms of asceticism and of Christian mysticism themselves did not just fall straight from heaven. When one studies the forms of Christian prayer since New Testament times, they may be seen to be modeled upon those among which they originated: Judaism, Hellenism and Rome itself. Each culture gave expression to its mode of prayer and its own spiritual itinerary. The Church adopted them after purifying and raising them to the Christian level.

I have nothing in common with those who assert that all methods from Asia are an invention of the devil, which should be rejected because bound up with a conception of the world not to be shared by Christians. It is true that today such methods are being commercialized, sad to say! All the same, we have, I think, to acknowledge that these methods have a certain independence in their own right, vis-a-vis the ideological context in which they have been developed; otherwise we would have to deny man any ability for approaching God “by the footsteps of the heart” (St. Thomas). What has been discovered by the explorers of the spirit and the seekers after God may be regarded as the riches of a human heritage.

Everything that can serve for edification, anything that can help one to make contact with another’s inmost experiences or his starting point, so as to be able mentally to travel his road in the light of Christ, may lend to a fruitful dialogue that monks alone are suited to undertake with their brothers, non-Christian spiritual seekers. In so doing they will render a great service to the Church and to the world.