This week I’ve been mulling over the ideas of ora et labora - praying into my work and thinking about how my work can be an act of prayer. At first blush, it was easy, but not for long. I soon begin to see that if I take this idea seriously, I have a problem; much of the time the way I live my everyday life falls far short of something I’d consider worthy of being offered up as prayer.

I wonder if I can do this Benedictine thing. Surely it’s too hard.

I find myself surprised. Maybe it’s because I’m often tempted to think that life should be easy - after all, God’s on our side, right? But whatever the reason, my instincts start to give me very clear messages: “Quit!” “Run!” “Get outta here!”

Would that be so bad, I wonder? The speed of change in our society is positively breakneck. This morning, things that were absolutely on trend yesterday are, well, so very yesterday. Change seems to be the order of the day; the order of every day.

Yet if we stop to consider what causes us most stress and worry, most of those things are about change. It’s not as easy as just running for the hills when things are hard, because both perseverance through difficulty and change itself are likely to be difficult. Change might be easier in the short term - a new idea or challenge is often fun. But in the long term, aren’t we going to end up back in difficult times again? How are we going to cope with them?

Into this quandry Benedict speaks the principle of stability. He asks us to commit to what is good, not only in a transient sense but in a long lasting, deep way. He suggests we will want to place ourselves in communities from which we will not run when the going gets tough. You see, God himself says “I the Lord do not change”. Security is one of our greatest needs.

That’s not to say that change is never appropriate. Instead, what we’ve got here is a much more profound principle. I’m prompted to ask “why am I considering making this change?” Is it for my own transient pleasure, or is there a greater good here. Of course there are, will always be, changes required if my life is to be a journey towards God. He doesn’t change, so I must. I should expect that to be difficult.

“Do not be daunted immediately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset” RB Prologue 48

Perhaps what is hardest is to stop and to allow God to get to me rather than vice versa. As one author puts it, “Stability calls us to believe that if we stay where we are, God will find us.”

So today, when I’m tempted to run, I’m going to try to stand still, to show some holy stubornness. “Here I am, Lord. Hold me.”