Fr. Jarek Kurek: Some fifteen hundred years ago there lived a holy man who, like Abraham, who we heard about in the 1st reading, was not afraid to take risks. Because of that courage, that holy man was richly blessed by God; and again, like Abraham, he became a blessing for countless people in the centuries that followed.
Most of you here, I’m sure, know this saint well, as students of a Benedictine school. It is St Benedict—Benedictus in Latin, a name that simply means “blessed”—whom I want to speak to you about today.
Benedict must have been around your age when he made his first major life decision. Disappointed with the world he lived in—despite receiving a good education—he chose to leave it behind. At first glance, this might seem like a reckless move. But deep down, Benedict knew exactly what he was doing. It was not an impulsive escape, but a well-informed decision. As his biographer tells us, “even as a boy, Benedict had the heart of an elder.” Already as a boy he had the heart of and elder…
So he left everything because he wanted to respond fully to God’s call and to serve Him alone. This marked the beginning of Benedict’s journey into the mountains—both literally and spiritually.
The beginnings were not easy. Benedict chose a harsh way of life: high up in the wilderness, with little food and great isolation. Yet aren’t these very challenges the ones that test a person’s character and shape true resilience?
Before long, word of his radical way of life spread, and disciples began to arrive. People wanted to learn from him and to live as he did. Eventually, Benedict was asked to lead a nearby community. This is where he truly began to learn about human nature—about how difficult it can be to guide others. And believe me, this was not an easy lesson. In fact, this was the moment when Benedict lived out, in its fullest sense, the exhortation we heard from St Paul in today’s second reading: “Join with me in suffering for the Gospel.”
What happened? The very community he was leading tried to poison him. Why? Because Benedict’s standards were too demanding for them. He aimed too high. And how did he respond? He did not retaliate or argue. Instead, he calmly left. Once again, he made a wise and well-discerned decision.
At that time, Benedict felt it was better to live alone with God. He withdrew because he saw things differently. He had a broader, more global vision—one that allowed him to grow even further in wisdom.
In time, Benedict was blessed with deeper spiritual insight and new disciples who truly wanted to learn from him. It was through these experiences, and his remarkably visionary approach, that the Rule of St Benedict was born. This famous document responded to the needs of people in Benedict’s own day, it paved the way for many generations—and it continues to guide thousands of monks around the world, as well as many lay people who strive to live according to its spirit.
It was also Benedict who set the pattern of placing monasteries high in the mountains—think of Monte Cassino. Even today, many Benedictine monasteries are blessed with truly spectacular locations, places that lift both the eyes and the soul.
Finally, consider Benedict’s own experience of a kind of Transfiguration. All his life, he aimed high, relentlessly moving upward. In the final phase of his life, he was granted an overwhelming vision of light. We are told that he saw the whole world gathered into a single ray of sunlight. Within that light, he saw a soul being carried upward by angels in a ball of fire. And I like to believe that there, as in today’s Gospel, Benedict beheld Christ himself—revealed in his cosmic glory.
Gregory the Great, Benedict’s biographer, explains how such a vision was possible. It happened because Benedict’s mind and heart had grown so vast that they could embrace the whole world.
And that is my message to you: aim high. Take risks. Grow in wisdom. Imitate St Benedict by expanding your heart and your mind, and step by step, become a person of his stature. Thus you too will be a blessing for many.