Oct 2009: Robert Benson

Robert Benson is the author of several books, including Living Prayer and Between the Dreaming and the Coming True. Alex Newman interviewed him at his home in Nashville, Tennessee.

TAP: There seems to be increasing interest in writing about living life “at attention”—everywhere from the realm of pop culture to business to marketing and theology. Is this a response to our contemporary culture or just an old message with new packaging?

RB: The world is so vibrant and attractive with technological and educational advances, but it’s also become more complex. After a while, you realize you can only concentrate on the few things that really matter, and set aside the rest.

This isn’t just in the spiritual realm, either, but in all walks of life, and you have to stop and think through what matters. At some point, it becomes hard to live with much more information.

TAP: In your book Living Prayer, there’s a hint that prayer might be a good antidote to this frenetic lifestyle, and further that the monastic life with its structured prayer life is a good place to start. Why?

RB: I figure people who’ve been praying in the desert, in communities, since about the 5^th century, may know something about prayer. In the modern protestant western world, we have this way of seeing religion as roughly 200 years old. It’s actually 2000 years old, in case we hadn’t noticed. In spite of our newsletters, emails, prayer chains, slide shows, and so on, the only thing we don’t do that the church has done for the last 2000 years is pray those prayers.

TAP: The trend, though, seems to be toward more personal prayer, so how can a set liturgy facilitate a deeper prayer life?

RB: St Paul spoke of the groaning of his heart, he just didn’t have the words. In times like that, liturgy can step in and speak for us.

The other gift that liturgy offers is a language that shapes us-- and the use of a particular language, particular collects, psalms, creed, the Our Father, etc., over and over, offers structure and discipline and does so in ways we couldn’t if we relied on our own language.

And lastly, it helps us remember who we’re speaking to -- the Lord of the Universe, the One Who created us.

TAP: How did you come to the Anglican church?

RB: I grew up in Nashville, Tennessee, in the Nazarene church, which is a kind of evangelical outgrowth of Methodism. Then like all young people, I moved away from home, and had something better to do on Sunday morning. Later, in my 20s, I stopped in a huge gothic Presbyterian church in Chicago and was struck by the art of the liturgy, and realized I was being drawn back to worship in some way. When I returned to Nashville, I went to every Presbyterian church in town searching for that same sense of worship and eventually found it in a Methodist church; I spent 10 years there.

When I met my wife -- also raised Nazarene -- we looked for a church to attend together, and came to the Anglican cathedral, where we’ve been ever since.

TAP: Tell me your thoughts about the Eucharist. In Living Prayer, you point out that Jesus told the disciples “You did not choose me, I chose you.” Powerful, liberating and affirming statement – but how exactly does it relate to the Eucharist?

RB: “I chose you”--what Jesus says in the gospel of John--is where the power is for me. So much of what goes on in church today is about what I do, what I think, and we kid ourselves that this church thing is about us.

But every time I choose to come to the table, I have to remember that the body and blood are there in the first place because he chose them to be.

TAP: You have an interesting story about using a prayer rug -- can you expand on the importance of location in prayer?

RB: These days we like to say that we can talk to God anywhere, and so we don’t have to talk to him anywhere special. But setting aside some special place helps us know that when we’re there, in that place, we are trying to be in communion with the One who created all things. Whether it’s a rug, or candles, or an altar, or a small corner, or a certain way of sitting, it can get us into the habit of listening to and for the voice of the One who made us.

TAP: Themes of coming home recur in your writing – does reorienting ourselves toward God spur the desire to pray, or is it structured prayer life that leads to directional change back home?

RB: Either or, both and--it goes back and forth. I’m always drawn toward that coming home, whatever that looks and feels like, however we define it at a particular point in our lives. A friend of mine says that we were with God in our beginning, and we’re going home to God in the end, and in between what we have is the longing to be with the God we were with and the God to whom we’re going home. And the entire exercise in our time here is a kind of learning about the God we yearn for and yet couldn’t completely have known had we stayed where we were. So our orientation is always what will get me home, and how will I learn more about that home.

TAP: Why is the rule of St Benedict the best mission statement you’ve ever seen and a place to start making your lists for living?

RB: St. Benedict challenges us to balance prayer, work, community and rest. Most of our lives, our community will come and get us -- family, friends, always want more time than less, work will always get you because you have to pay bills. But no one demands that we pray more and rest more. So if it’s not built into the framework of your life, you’re working with one hand tied behind your back, and wondering why you’re so damned tired.

TAP: While “quick tips” aren’t really the route to a life of deep and contemplative prayer, have you any to lend some direction?

RB: Make a rule that’s moderate, one you can keep. Pay attention to the liturgy and sacraments and Word, pray the office, keep a journal, take retreats, find some time for some silence and some friends with whom to walk the road, read some books, ask some questions, find some others who know.

TAP: The writing life – how did you come to it?

RB: I was raised in a music publishing family – my dad was a writer, my granddad a poet. Frequently visiting musicians would take my bedroom and I’d sleep in the living room, where I’d hear them talk about writing.

At age 13, I wrote the liner notes for an album – my first published writing – but didn’t go full time until age 41. In the meantime, I learned to write by writing for corporate clients -- the key was to write sentences that would keep people reading on.

TAP: What’s important for writers to remember?

RB: If you start with thinking this is a mission to turn people to God, it becomes propaganda. Henri Nouwen said as long as we tell our stories to each other there’s hope. That’s what writers have to contribute. They may tell those stories through fiction, memories, or however they like. What writers hope for is to look up from time to time and discover their work has pointed people toward God.

Robert Benson’s books have received favourable reviews in major newspapers, such as the New York Times and USA Today. www.robertbensonwriter.com