In the second half of Chapter 58, Saint Benedict describes the liturgy in which a man becomes a monk. The ceremony in which I made a promise to enter a year’s time as a novice oblate contains some of the elements in this liturgy. I signed my name to a written promise and placed it on the altar in the chapel of Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital. In the Rule, Saint Benedict writes:

He should make his promise in a written petition…. Then the novice makes his mark on it and personally lays it on the altar. When he has deposited it, the novice himself immediately begins this verse: “Receive me, Lord, according to your promise and I will live. Do not disappoint me in my hope” [Psalm 118:116] (RB 58:19a,20b).

I can’t recall if we used this verse, but reading it in the Rule was a moving and meaningful experience. By placing my promise on the altar I was offering myself to God. This is the root meaning of the word oblate, which comes from the word meaning “offering.” This action says that I give myself to God, that I recognize and acknowledge that I am wholly his and not my own, that all I am and have and do is his and exists simply to bring him glory and honor.

The verse from the Psalm says to me that God promises to receive our self-offerings and that our living truly flows from his acceptance of that gift. Then when I speak the words of the Psalm, I call on God to keep that promise, so that “in my hope”—that is, in my faith and trust in God and his promises—I do not know disappointment.

In some ways, this commitment is no different from the one made by any baptized person who embraces the path of discipleship that flows from the baptismal waters. Nor is it really any different from the commitment I made at my ordination. But the oblatial promise does have a focus and intensity to it, a discipline to undergird it, and a community dedicated to supporting it.

My thoughts have been turning lately to how I will serve in the role of pastor in a parish. While much of the routine of this ministry does not vary from place to place or over time, I am not the same person I was fifteen years ago. In particular, I was not a novice oblate then, and did not have this tradition’s foundation and routine and discipline to call me to ask myself daily, “How can I give myself in service?” I still find myself not wanting to ask that question, or asking it begrudgingly, or giving half-hearted answers. But sometimes, I find myself saying, “Receive me, Lord!” And when I do, he does, and then something good comes of my oblation.

I am reminded of Saint Benedict’s word of comfort in the Prologue to his Rule:

But as we progress in the monastic life and in faith, our hearts will swell with the unspeakable sweetness of love, enabling us to race along the way of God’s commandments (RB Prol. 49).

This is my prayer, that I will progress in the baptismal, pastoral, and oblatial life and in faith, so that I will grow more loving of God and of those whom he places in my life, both family and friends.

Ut in Omnibus Glorificetur Deus.