Why (Not) a Rule of Life?

A brief answer to some online questions

I’ve debated the topic of this week’s letter. I want—very badly—to jump into the conversation about a rule of life practice, whether it represents a “hyper-focus on individuality” and a “bespoke lifestyle”; whether it represents the better intentions of the spiritual formation movement and Christian tradition; whether it’s a misguided effort to improve Christians, rather than see them transformed.

You should read all these pieces to which I’ve linked, and if you’re really bored, you can search “rule of life” as a tag in my previous posts. I wish I could write a fuller response, but this is the most I can muster after a week when, after two years of prayer and support, it has now become clear that I need to make changes in my mother’s level of care. This is weighing heavy upon me, and it’s always keeping me busier than I’d like. As I told a group of young women in a discipleship group a friend and I lead, “If you see me sobbing in the communion line, this is what I’m thinking about.”

I think there are many fair critiques of a rule of life practice as practiced. Yes, it certainly can become yet another way we seek more control of our lives, yet another way we try avoiding the burdens of love. One reason I encourage workshop participants to read In Good Time isn’t simply to get them buying more of my books. It’s to encourage them to re-imagine the story of time and to interrogate categories of productivity and efficiency.  

If you want to write a rule of life, imagining it will achieve “progress” toward your self-appointed ends, you’re not keeping a rule as Christians historically thought about it. You’re managing your time in the spirit of the contemporary gurus who talk about “maximizing the minutes.” That was certainly my own impulse when I began reading about a rule of life. I imagined fitting it all in. I imagined achieving that elusive “balance” we talk about, as if juggling were a spiritual sport. Only when I faced the caregiving responsibilities for my mother, now diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, could I see that I needed structure to support the greater goal of love. How would I love my mom practically, realistically, helpfully?

A rule has become a way for me to be in constant conversation with God about this responsibility and many others. I wish I’d had the practice in place years earlier: as a newly married woman, as a new mother. As James K.A. Smith argues in How to Inhabit Time, Christian discipleship is a temporal enterprise. It means that we live our lives for and in and with Jesus in a particular place, in a particular time, in a particular body. It seems worth asking deeper questions about these givens of life and how God intends for us to love him and love our neighbor in this place and time and body.  

A rule of life practice, if it is conceived as a means toward the careful curation of “my best life now,” has corrupted the purpose of a rule. Benedict spoke of his rule’s purpose to “safeguard love” and “amend fault,” which—to use biblical language—means “obey the great commandments” and “mortify sin.” It’s to say that if the good of your neighbor is not central to your rule, again, you’re not in keeping with its true orientation. To be sure, I think communal rules are far better than individual rules, but I don’t necessarily think they have to be mutually exclusive. (Don’t get me started on why I think every church needs a no-phones rule in their sanctuaries.)

I’ll just say briefly that one thing largely missing from any of these more recent discussions to which I’ve linked is the context of our moment, as it relates to the attention economy. The “lamplight” of our focus (which might be better translated as “devotion,” if we’re to heed Simone Weil) is slipping away from us (and being stolen in broad daylight). Would there be reason to take up efforts that sustain the endurance and perseverance that true Christian faithfulness exhibits? Would there be reason to think intentionally about our rhythms and routines, given that so many mindless habits develop around smartphones? I think so.

I keep starting (and stopping) on a rule of life book, wanting to make the case for the why of a rule and to help readers through a process that I’ve found personally valuable for writing a rule. This post can’t do all that work, and if you ever think to pray for me (as I know many readers do) you might ask God to give the time and space to do this work in earnest. Thanks.