Last February, I attended the American Abbots' Workshop, as I do almost every year. Our speaker this time was Michael Casey, a Cistercian monk from Australia, who has written several excellent books on monastic spirituality. In an engaging series of talks saturated with his calm yet ardent thirst for God, he discussed "ten commandments for those living the monastic life," which he extracted from St. Benedict's Rule for Monasteries. One of the "commandments," taken from the fourth verse of Chapter 48 states that we should "devote ourselves to reading." It is instructive that the title of Chapter 48 is "The Daily Manual Labor." More instructive still: Although Benedict outlines the times of day when manual work should be done, this chapter says far more about reading than it does about work. The implication of this chapter, then, is that reading is not an optional pastime, but is an intrinsic part of a life of service to God and neighbor.
     Most likely, Benedict himself expected this reading to consist primarily of Holy Scripture and the writings of the Fathers such as Saint Basil and John Cassian. Tapping into much monastic experience over the centuries, however, Michael Casey spoke of reading as an engagement in "generalized culture," that is, exploring many areas of intellectual and personal interest. This engagement with generalized culture requires leisure. Michael Casey defined leisure as "freedom from external constraints; the sphere of the fully human." Leisure "provides scope for expression of the deep self in play, wisdom, creative work, contemplation, art, friendship and kindness." Just as leisure creates space for ourselves to broaden our lives, the enemies of leisure that Casey listed: obsession, ambition, overwork, sloth and escapism shrink and narrow our lives.
     The phrase that Michael Casey used to describe the practice of leisurely reading was "disinterested reading." Those words rang a loud bell for me, because that is precisely the same phrase that my novice master Father Anthony used. The use of the word "disinterested" may be startling, because nowadays it is often used to mean "not interested," but the American Heritage Dictionary appends a note to the definition of this word, insisting that the meaning of "unbiased, free of self-interest" is much the more proper meaning of the word. The Oxford English Dictionary includes the attractive definition: "free from self-seeking."
     Although neither Michael Casey nor Father Anthony defined this term, I think I am close to what they were getting at as well as faithful to the proper meaning of the word if I define "disinterested reading" as reading without a specific agenda. It is this lack of an agenda that frees reading from constraints and allows for a leisurely play in the activity. The freedom from self-seeking both prevents this activity of reading from becoming egocentric and deepens the formative effect on the reader.
     On the other hand, reading a book for a specific purpose may also be enjoyable, but it is not an act of leisure. Here it helps to note the formative effect of the prayerful reading of scripture, a practice that builds the foundation for all other reading. There are times when I have to study portions of scripture for a specific purpose, usually for preparing a sermon. The result of this intentional effort is often rewarded by insights that might not have come without that effort. However, most of my prayerful reading of scripture is done disinterestedly; that is, without trying to accomplish anything beyond spending time with God and with God's Word. Over the years, the conviction has grown in me that it is reading without trying to accomplish anything in particular that has allowed God's Word to sink deeply into my whole being.
     In discussing the leisure of which disinterested reading is an embodiment, Michael Casey noted that leisure allows us to "have time not to be busy," and this non-busy time gives us "time to listen to one another." That thought has given me the idea that reading is an act of hospitality towards the writer, an act that welcomes someone into our lives. We listen to other people most deeply and are thus most hospitable to them when we do not have an agenda concerning them. The same is true with the author of a book that we have invited to come an speak to us. Such listening is a quality I saw in Father Anthony again and again over the years.
     This act of listening has in itself a formative value for us, one that can benefit the people who enter into our lives. As we listen to a writer, we have the opportunity to try out new ideas and alternate ways of living. Some of these ideas and ways of living will seem impractical and in some cases even seriously wrong, but other ideas and visions of living differently can spur us on to doing things that change the world. It is the "disinterested" quality that allows us to toy with these ideas without being too anxious about them. But then, once an idea has really grabbed our interest, our actions can be focused and full of interest in other people.
     Such listening also requires reading at a pace slow enough to engage in conversation with the author. Speed-reading has its place for those who can do it, but disinterested reading is not that place. Rather, Michael Casey recommends a leisurely pace of reading that exchanges instant gratification for long-term delight and which fosters a "slow intellectual metabolism."
     In listing some of the benefits of disinterested reading, Michael Casey notes that this practice "facilitates a reflective, substantial life," It "broadens and refines the mind" so as to give us a wider context to our own experience that "adds depth to our beliefs and values." The little game of trying out new ideas and alternate ways of living makes no sense if we do not have any core convictions of our own to give us a frame of reference for the thought experiments we are invited to try. Our convictions might change as a result of some of these experiments but these changes won't be impulsive. Rather, these changes will be the result of much listening and thinking. On the other hand, many times the result of these experiments will be to confirm and thus deepen the convictions which we brought to the book in the first place. It is when our convictions are regularly tested through the challenges of listening and imagining possibilities that our convictions can be most focused without our needing to use them as weapons with which to bludgeon people we don't agree with. There are some movies that can foster a reflective response and, theoretically, television could do the same. Unfortunately, much of the entertainment industry seems to be designed to close off leisurely thought rather than to provide space for it. On the other side of the coin, it is the authors who eschew the sledgehammer and communicate most thoughtfully who are easiest to listen to and be challenged by.
     The actual books one might read disinterestedly will, of course, differ from person to person. Because theology books and other books on Christianity interest me, I read these books along with books on numerous other subjects that help put my faith in context. This sort of broad-ranging reading seems to be what Michael Casey is recommending to us, and it certainly was true of Fr. Anthony's reading habits. It is worth noting that C. S. Lewis, in his essay "On Stories," stressed the importance of being a good reader much more than he emphasized reading the "best" books. That is to say, one who reads hospitably and experimentally will get more out of reading than one who reads "great" books with a closed mind and heart. In my experience, many books considered to be "light reading" have given me much to think about. I will add, however, that I don't get much delight from any book that doesn't give me some sustenance mentally and spiritually.
     Not everybody finds reading all that helpful in cultivating "holy leisure." Benedict himself realized this and at the end of this same chapter on work and reading, he suggests that such people "be given a type of work or craft that will keep them busy without overwhelming them." It happens that the Abbot Primate of the Benedictine Confederation, Notker Wolf, was at this workshop and, although himself a man of highly cultured intellect, he brought up this verse during our discussion. Clearly the Abbot Primate wants us to be open and flexible to other experiences of "holy leisure" besides those which come with reading. Benedict's example of practicing a handicraft is a particularly good one since this sort of activity can accomplish many of the same objectives as disinterested reading does.
     Just as people possess various abilities for reading, people have different amounts of time available for the practice of disinterested reading. A major part of the discipline of reading is to carve out time for it in the face of many obstacles, which can exist even in a monastery. This discipline also entails making use of small amounts of time that are available, a practice at which Fr. Anthony was a great master. These short periods of time add up to a lot of reading and they leaven the whole day with the sense of leisure that helps us listen to God and neighbor.
     It is important to remember that some of the obstacles to disinterested reading are within ourselves. Michael Casey listed ambition and overwork among the enemies of leisure. When we are not only possessed by these enemies of leisure but also have social and economic power, we don't hurt only ourselves; we hurt many other people by engulfing them in our own ambition. The effects of this problem are all around us throughout the world. This is all the more reason for each of us to engage in disinterested reading so that we can playfully yet earnestly imagine new ways we can live together, free to engage in holy leisure.
--Abbot Andrew

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