A Christian History article listing the author's favorite top-five books on desert spirituality pointed towards a really fun two-volume set called Barsanuphius and John of Gaza: Letters. The desert Fathers were monks in the 3rd+ cent. who sought God and holiness through separation from the world and asceticism. Their struggles were against demons, against their own pride, worldliness and temptation. They gained a reputation in part due to the biography of one of their greatest monks, St. Anthony, written by none other than Athanasius, the man whose tireless struggle in the fourth century preserved orthodox belief about the divinity and humanity of Christ.These are people whose spirituality, completely foreign to Westerners, captures the imagination. A favorite account shared with me by my friend Dean Johnson reads,
Abba Lot came to Abba Joseph and said: Father, according as I am able, I keep my little rule, and my little fast, my prayer, meditation and contemplative silence; and, according as I am able, I strive to cleanse my heart of thoughts: now what more should I do? The elder rose up in reply and stretched out his hands to heaven, and his fingers became like ten lamps of fire. He said: Why not be changed into fire? [1]Ah. So helpful! Another favorite example is Simeon Stylites, who is famous for living for 39 years on a platform on top of a pillar.
Simeon and Lot both show a characteristic problem with reading the desert fathers: The direction of their spirituality was so foreign to ours that their accomplishments, while at times amazing, tend to feel irrelevant.
Which is why the books of letters from Barsanuphius and John are so interesting. These two were monks in the desert of Gaza in the 6th century. They were regarded as holy men and spiritual authorities, and many people sought advice from them. Their responses are a sort of Frequently Asked Questions list on desert spirituality and asceticism. Here you see more than their cryptic advice and sayings—you get practical advice to an array of every-day questions.
For instance, one young brother asked the "Great Old Man" (as Barsanuphius was called) to guide him in talking to a fellow monk. The monk had asked the young brother about his thoughts, and he had responded in riddles, later wondering if he had acted correctly. The Great Old Man's reply was,
As for questioning in riddles, it is self-serving, lacking in discernment, and this person needs many prayers.Score one for the riddled monk, and for common sense!
In a response to a monk who is discouraged because he can't stop thinking about sex, and wonders if maybe he just doesn't have what it takes to be a monk, Barsanuphius writes,
We hear that 'our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against rulers and against the authorities.' Until now, you have not struggled against sin tot he point of blood. Does the spirit of listlessness, then, already paralyze you? ...Ah, sleepy monk! Show the devil that you live for God, taking refuge in him, moving with hands and feet, swimming in the onslaught of the intellectual waves, which rise to the heavens and drop to the abyss. God is my witness, that my heart has been unfolded with you...The compassion in this response is palpable. It also shows the spiritual context in which these monks lived: If you strip away the trappings of life--books, clothes, job advancement, (probably) good food, home--then maybe it makes it all the easier to see the demonic beings which resist our drawing nearer to God. Another letter to Barsanuphius has the request, "Please teach me how to reach abstinence [from food] and how to distinguish between natural and demonic weakness." He replies,
...if your body can accept daily food and is still slack, then this comes from demons; otherwise it is from the [fasting] itself.Again, practical! (Though I might add "depressed about living in the desert" or even "common cold" to the list of possible explanations.) While I am not ready quite yet to yield to such a demon-crowded world view, I am open to the idea that the desert fathers knew something I don't about the spiritual world, and that their very different perspective allowed them to see things invisible to me.
From a Western perspective we wonder why they would pursue asceticism, and give up God's good gifts? Why they would separate themselves from the world, and thus cut themselves off from all the good they can do, the witness they can provide. Why they would spend so much energy scrutinizing each thought and emotion, when sometimes it's better to serve than to think. Why spend so much time looking for demons, rather than Jesus?
For their part they would ask us, Why are we holding so tightly to our worldly goods and pursuits, and trying to climb through the needle's eye? Doesn't it say in 1 Jn 2:15, "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him"? And didn't Paul tell us to "take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ" (2 Cor 10:15)? And didn't he also tell us that "our struggle is not against flesh and blood" (Eph 6:15)?
It helps me remember than two hundred years from now, my career, my house, my accomplishments, will be forgotten, and to admire the courage it must have taken for them to give away all of these things to draw closer to Jesus.
My reading has also taken me into perhaps one enduring gift of the desert communities, the Jesus Prayer. Frederica Matthewes-Green has written a brief and highly accessible introduction to the Prayer half of which is a list of frequently asked questions. What better way to connect with the desert fathers than with this ancient meditation? 'Tis the season.
And now, it's time for me to discern whether my hunger and slackness are due to demons, or impending lunchtime...
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[Image: Michelangelo's The Torment of Saint Anthony, c. 1487-88.]
[1] The Wisdom of the Desert: Sayings from the Desert Fathers of the Fourth Century, Thomas Merton, New Directions Books, Norfolk, CT, 1960, p. 50.
