Christianity

Poustinia | Pilgrims of the Absolute


“The more I try to explain the poustinia and the Russian idea of it, the more I find myself floundering. I find it an exceedingly difficult task because what I speak about is so very foreign to the Western mind of today, especially to those on the North American continent. Yet I know that the poustinia is one answer, at least, for this Western culture which depends so much on cerebration and intellectualism, and has a need to sift everything through the mind and examine everything with almost scientific precision.

If there is anything that can help to rectify the defects of such a mentality it is precisely the poustinia experience of the Eastern spirituality. For it is neither Eastern nor Western but simply Christian. It is the eternal hunger of men for God whom they seek, whether they know it or not, as pilgrims of the Absolute.

Every man is a pilgrim on the road of life. Some, and there are more than we know of, are like the poustiniki, truly seeking the Absolute: God!”

Poustinia and Poustinik


Poustinia is the Russian word for “desert.” It is also used in Russian Orthodoxy to refer to a place where a solitary goes to seek ongoing silence and solitude before God. A solitary monk who lives in a poustinia (usually a simple, small structure) is called a poustinik. In Russia, a poustinik typically lives on the outskirts of a town and is available for the townspeople to come, meet, and ask for direction or specific help – even for things like lending a hand in the field during harvest season. The poustinik is a spiritual director of sorts, and also makes him or herself available for the practical needs of the community.

Catherine Doherty, founder of Madonna House in Canada, wrote a classic book about the concept of poustinia, simply called Poustinia.

Apophthegmata Patrum | Asking to Hear a Word


“A secular man of devout life came to see Abba Poemen. Now it happened that there were other brethren with the old man, asking to hear a word from him.”


Oftentimes, people of surrounding cities would come to see the desert monastics and “ask for a word.” The monks served as spiritual directors of sorts. Richard Beck recently wrote a post about this dynamic in the Russian tradition.


Apophthegmata Patrum | Longinus: If You Have Not Lived Rightly With Men

“One day Abba Longinus questioned Abba Lucius about three thoughts saying first, ‘I want to go into exile.’ The old man said to him, ‘If you cannot control your tongue, you will not be in exile anywhere. Therefore control your tongue here, and you will be in exile.’ Next he said to him, ‘I wish to fast.’ The old man replied, ‘Isaiah said, “If you bend your neck like a rope or a bulrush that is not the fast I will accept; but rather, control your evil thoughts.”’ He said to him the third time, ‘I wish to flee from men.’ The old man replied, ‘If you have not first of all lived rightly with men, you will not be able to live rightly in solitude.’”

This saying reminds me of the thoughts of Meister Eckhart, quoted in Dangerous Mystic:

"I was asked, 'Some people shun all company and always want to be alone; their peace depends on it, and on being in church. Was that the best thing?' And I said, 'No!' Now I see why. He who is in a right state, is always in a right state wherever he is, and with everybody. But if a man is in a wrong state, he is so everywhere and with anybody."


Solitude doesn’t guarantee anything. It doesn’t guarantee a change in character. Sometimes it can just be escapism.

Apophthegmata Patrum | John the Dwarf: Acquire Every Virtue


“Abba John said, ‘I think it best that a man should have a little bit of all the virtues. Therefore, get up early every day and acquire the beginning of every virtue and every commandment of God. Use great patience, with fear and long-suffering, in the love of God, with all fervour of your soul and body. Exercise great humility, bear with interior distress; be vigilant and pray often with reverence and groaning, with purity of speech and control of your eyes. When you are despised do not get angry; be at peace, and do not render evil for evil. Do not pay attention to the faults of others, and do not try to compare yourself with others, knowing you are less than every created thing. Renounce everything material and that which is of the flesh. Live by the cross, in warfare, in poverty of spirit, in voluntary spiritual asceticism, in fasting, penitence and tears, in discernment, in purity of soul, taking hold of that which is good. Do your work in peace. Persevere in keeping vigil, in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, and in sufferings. Shut yourself in a tomb as though you were already dead, so that at all times you will think death is near.”

Cenobitic vs. Eremitic Monasticism

Cenobitic monasticism stresses the monastic life lived in community. Eremitic monasticism stresses the solitary nature of the monk. Often there is a mix of both solitude and community within monastic communities, but the Desert Fathers leaned heavily towards the eremitic – true “hermit” or solitary – way of life.

Apophthegmata Patrum | Theodore of Pherme and Nisterus: Everything You Do As A Commandment Of God Is The Work of the Soul

“A brother questioned him saying, ‘What is the work of the soul which we now consider to be subordinate, and what is that which was subordinate and which we now consider to be our chief work?’ The old man said, ‘Everything you do as a commandment of God is the work of the soul; but to work and to gather goods together for a personal motive ought to be held as subordinate.’ Then the brother said, ‘Explain this matter to me.’ So the old man said ‘Suppose you hear it said that I am ill and you ought to visit me; you say to yourself, ‘Shall I leave my work and go now? I had better finish my work and then go.’ Then another idea comes along and perhaps you never go; or again, another brother says to you, ‘Lend me a hand, brother’; and you say ‘Shall I leave my own work and go and work with him?’ If you do not go, you are disregarding the commandment of God which is the work of the soul, and doing the work of your hands which is subordinate.’”

– Theodore of Pherme

“Abba Nisterus said that a monk ought to ask himself every night and every morning, ‘What have we done that is as God wills and what have we left undone of that which he does not will?’ He must do this throughout his whole life.”

– Nisterus

Apophthegmata Patrum | Anthony the Great: "If I Bend My Bow So Much"

 


“A hunter in the desert saw Abba Anthony enjoying himself with the brethren and he was shocked. Wanting to show him that it was necessary sometimes to meet the needs of the brethren, the old man said to him, ‘Put an arrow in your bow and shoot it.’ So he did. The old man then said, ‘Shoot another,” and he did so. Then the old man said, ‘Shoot yet again,’ and the hunter replied ‘If I bend my bow so much I will break it.’ Then the old man said to him, ‘It is the same with the work of God. If we stretch the brethren beyond measure they will soon break. Sometimes it is necessary to come down to meet their needs.’ When he heard these words the hunter was pierced by compunction and, greatly edified by the old man, he went away. As for the brethren, they went home strengthened.”


Even St. Anthony the Great had to take a break and B.S. with his boys sometimes.

Apophthegmata Patrum | Agathon: Too Much Asceticism


“At one time Abba Agathon had two disciples each leading the anchoretic life according to his own measure. One day he asked the first, ‘How do you live in the cell?’ He replied, ‘I fast until the evening, then I eat two hard biscuits.’ He said to him, ‘Your way of life is good, not overburdened with too much asceticism.’”

This quotation shows that there were different ways of life, and different philosophies surrounding how much asceticism was beneficial in the thought of the Desert Fathers.

Apophthegmata Patrum | Anthony the Great, The Desert Fathers, and Asceticism



“He also said, ‘Always have the fear of God before your eyes. Remember him who gives life and death. Hate the world and all that is in it. Hate all peace that comes from the flesh. Renounce this life, so that you may be alive to God. Remember what you have promised God, for it will be required of you on the day of judgment. Suffer hunger, thirst, nakedness, be watchful and sorrowful; weep, and groan in your heart; test yourselves, to see if you are worthy of God; despise the flesh, so that you may preserve your souls.”

Anthony the Great


The severe asceticism of the Desert Fathers and some of their harsh language about “the world” (although this is likely hyperbole, cf. Jesus’ similar clearly hyperbolic statement in Luke 14:26) is what is most commonly offputting to those with a modern perspective, including myself. Many of these solitaries completely rejected society and practiced severe renunciation of any worldly comfort, living on the bare minimum of food, sleep, and physical comfort – pushing their bodies to their absolute limits. The story of Siddhartha Gautama (“the Buddha”) living on “a grain of rice a day,” wasting away by practicing asceticism, comes to mind.

In a sense, I feel like the Christian tradition, as a tradition, followed the same experiment as the Buddha, beginning in extreme self-denial of all comfort and eventually moderating that perspective (the Buddha developed and finally advocated for “the Middle Path”). For instance, the author of the Cloud of Unknowing (14th Century) says the following:


“Now if you ask me what sort of moderation you should observe in the contemplative work, I will tell you: none at all. In everything else, such as eating, drinking, and sleeping, moderation is the rule. Avoid extremes of heat and cold; guard against too much and too little in reading, prayer, or social involvement. In all these things, I say again, keep to the middle path. But in love take no measure. Indeed, I wish that you had never to cease from this work of love…

Perhaps by now you are wondering how to determine the proper mean in eating, drinking, sleeping, and the rest. I will answer you briefly: be content with what comes along. If you give yourself generously to the work of love, I feel sure you will know when to begin and end every other activity.”

I don’t believe that asceticism is core to the contemplative traditions as a whole. But what is a core theme in virtually all contemplative traditions is non-attachment. From a theistic perspective, one should find their life solely in God and not look to the “things of the world” for ultimate satisfaction. From this perspective one can only properly interact with people and things in the world when we aren’t attached to them – using them, at least partly, to fulfill our own needs. From a Buddhist perspective, suffering is a direct consequence of “attachment” or "craving” the things of the world.

The Desert Fathers practiced non-attachment by simply removing themselves from the world.

For those of us in society, removing ourselves completely isn’t an option. Instead, the focus turns to having a right relationship with the people and things in it. Modern monastics from the Christian tradition have likewise developed a different stance towards bodily asceticism and the proper monastic attitude to the world at large.



Apophthegmata Patrum | "Sayings of the Fathers"


Although one can find traces of certain forms of mysticism in the New Testament documents themselves, the Christian Contemplative Tradition is typically seen as having more substantial origins in the deserts of 3rd Century Egypt. As Christianity became the official religion of Rome, martyrdom, often thought to be the “most perfect way of following Christ,” became a relic of the past. As an alternative to literally dying for the faith, hermits like St. Anthony the Great (usually seen as the “first Christian monk”) entered the desert to live lives of radical simplicity and seek God in nearly complete solitude. Desert spirituality was characterized less by official meditative practice and more by a way of life – asceticism, internal (sometimes referred to as hesychast) and external silence, solitude, unceasing prayer, battling temptation, and seeking absolute obedience to one’s conscience before God. Many of the Apophthegmata Patrum (“Sayings of the Desert Fathers”) seem harsh in retrospect, even to those of later developed Christian monasticism, but these original Christian monks were performing the first experiments in monastic and solitary life within their tradition. Many of their excesses, especially in regards to severe asceticism, would be moderated as the tradition developed.

The Apophthegmata Patrum have been passed down in multiple forms in both the Christian West and the Christian East. I will be sharing some quotations from The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (Alphabetical version). I don’t find everything in these sayings to be edifying, and they were people of their time just as we are people of our time, but I certainly resonate with the impulse of these original Christian monks towards the value of solitude.


"The Koran and the Talmud, the Bible and the Avesta, the Darshanas and the Analects praise silence. Religions are at one in teaching that, without quiet, the roots of piety will at best be shallow. The idea that God speaks not with the wind or the earthquake or the fire but with a still, small voice is a commonplace; it is general religious wisdom. In all places and at all times those longing to touch another world have instinctively known what to do – enter a desert, climb a mountain, join a hermitage."

– Dale Allison, The Luminous Dusk

St. Teresa of Avila | Interior Castle: New Life


In this final quotation, St. Teresa begins to describe what the soul’s new life is like after the experience of Union. Other traditions have their own way of talking about the change that comes through unitive experience – Self-Realization, Buddha Nature, “selfless-self,” etc. The primary characteristic of the new, transformed self, is that it operates without a concern for fulfilling personal self-will. It lives for the Ultimate Good – the “will of God” – and is at peace, unconcerned with obtaining personal gain from anything in the world.

“As we are saying, then, this little butterfly has now died, full of joy at having found rest, and within her lives Christ. Let us see what her new life is like, and how different it is from her earlier one, for it is by the effects which result from this prayer that we shall know if what has been said is true. As far as I can understand, the effects are these.

First, there is a self-forgetfulness which is so complete that it really seems as though the soul no longer existed…”


I will leave the rest for you to explore in the Interior Castle.


St. Teresa of Avila | Interior Castle: When Our Lord Brings The Soul Into This Mansion

 

“When Our Lord brings the soul into this Mansion of His, which is the centre of the soul itself, it seems, on entering, to be subject to none of the usual movements of the faculties and the imagination, which injure it and take away its peace.”


Yoga, Vedanta, “the stilling of the mind.” The parallels here (and throughout St. Teresa’s writings) are obvious.

St. Teresa of Avila | Interior Castle: Seventh Mansion, Nothing But Water


In this passage, St. Teresa famously describes the Seventh Mansion, Union, as “water in water.”



“…here it is like rain falling from the heavens into a river or a spring; there is nothing but water there and it is impossible to divide or separate the water belonging to the river from that which fell from the heavens. Or it is as if a tiny streamlet enters the sea, from which it will find no way of separating itself, or as if in a room there were two large windows through which the light streamed in: it enters in different places but all becomes one.”