| On Disinterested Reading
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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