Old Habits Die Hard

Apart from the rowers, early risers are not often spotted in First Court before dawn on a February morning. But something caught the imagination of the scores of students who found themselves in Chapel at 6am one day last Term. It was an unusual scheme: a day in the life of the Magdalene’s first students, the Benedictine monks.

Every three hours, we were invited to dip into the rhythms they might have known, from daybreak until nightfall, with Latin plainchant psalms and prayers at 6am Lauds (followed by a hearty breakfast), then 9am Terce, 12pm Sext, 3pm None, 6pm Vespers and finally 9.30pm Compline.

As well as offering worship, the experience revealed things about who we are. For those like me who attended it all, the frequent interruptions challenged us to allow the day to have a purpose beyond achieving the tasks at hand, receiving the gift of time in a town that idolises rush. For any who dropped in for an intentional break before lunch or heading to the library, we realised, through the gift of sacred words and music, just how close below the surface, is our hunger and capacity for the deep things of life, right in the middle of our day’s work and preoccupations.

We are proud that our Chapel is a very popular place for people of all faiths and none, and everything in between. The space and events are emphatically open to people who seek a space for reflection and encounter without a religious frame of reference, alongside our support for other faith traditions. But what underpins this openness, what makes that unequivocal welcome possible, is rootedness in a particular tradition, inspired by the Benedictines, embodied by our medieval Chapel. The Magdalene monks of nearly 600 years ago might struggle to recognise our students today. But, sitting in our beautiful Chapel on that day, interrupting our work and study with such similar liturgy, ending the day in the companionable dark of shared mortality and hope, we weren’t so very far from each other.

The first word of the Rule of St Benedict is, famously, Listen (‘Obsculta’, “Listen attentively, with the ear of your heart). He goes on to inspire his monks to mutual listening, living in a community where we ask this listening of each other, and where we promise it in return. The pastoral work of the Chapel and the Chaplain is all about making space for listening and encouraging it as the essence of our College community. When we listen to each other in our interfaith gatherings, in small groups or 1:1 pastoral care, at the C. S. Lewis readings, or the termly Chapel curry packing out the Hall, or even when we listen to each other holding the silence, we are offering that other great Benedictine hallmark, hospitality. Benedict tells his monks to welcome each stranger as though welcoming Christ himself. Some Benedictines give themselves a reminder of this by writing above their door the simple phrase ‘Laus Deo’, praise God (the phrase which is also said, incidentally, at the end of Hall). It’s not always the first thing that comes to mind when an unexpected visitor knocks at your door, but it’s what keeps us human, because it means we receive what is not us as a gift; we can welcome other thoughts and people because we know we can’t know it all on our own. That, of course, is what keeps the College a College. And it’s worth getting up for, according to the students.

By The Reverend Sarah Atkins, Dean of Chapel