I've always balked a bit at St. Benedict's analogy comparing God to a Roman noble in this chapter, yet I now find myself able to relate to the relational dynamic I think he's trying to capture. Two elements of this dynamic play out in my life every day.
First, it plays out through the sanctification of physical space for prayer. I step out of my casual way of being and into a formal one. Having taken religious vows and been clothed with a habit, I experience this difference in the simple act of putting on and taking off my habit. I also enlist the aid of sacred objects such as icons, crucifixes, beads, and stones along with candles and incense to create a sense of space that is set apart from, say, my toiletries or computer.
Second, it plays out through the brevity of prayer that our Father Benedict describes. My audience with the Divine is always open, and I am always met with a gracious and joyful welcome, but this welcome is a quality within God, not a reflection of my unique favorability. I don't need, then, to puff myself up with words or linger like a beggar hoping for alms of Divine Grace. I can move quickly in and out of prayer that is, in Benedict's words, "short and pure," without delusions about my role or my place in the Universe.