Living Wittily

On not being owned by what we own

A story from the Desert Fathers

One night bandits came to the hermitage of an old monastic and said: "We have come to take away everything in your cell."

And the monastic said, "Take whatever you see my sons."

The bandits gathered up everything they found and went away. But they left behind a little bag with silver candlesticks.

When the monastic saw it, he picked it up and ran after them shouting. "Take these, take these. You forgot them and they are the most beautiful of all."

Not quite a consumer led spirituality, eh? A kind of 'turn the other cheek' response to a greedy, grabbing culture? Overcoming the evil of robbery by generosity that makes what is stolen a gift? Uncomfortable people those desert monastics. Wouldn't want one of them to be the church treasurer, in charge of the church development funds...... mmmm.

"And so the yearning strong, with which the soul will long..."

I'm sitting transfixed in my study listening to Christian Forshaw's utterly heartbreaking rendering of Come Down O Love Divine.  I wrote about this CD, "Sanctuary", some months ago, enthusing about this beautifully conceived and performed album.

One of the recurring, indeed pervasive and persuasive notes in Elizabeth Johnson's account of contemporary Christian thinking about God is that of a Love that is at once mystery and gift, transcendent and intimate, sovereign and self-giving. Forshaw's rendering of this late middle ages hymn, Come Down O Love Divine, accompanying Aimee Green's voice which is pure with devotional intensity and intent, simply raises my heart into another degree of spiritual awareness. The combination of human voice as embodied longing, and of the saxophone through which musical improvisation gives breath to unassuaged yearning, communicate degrees of spiritual desire that are breathtaking. And I mean breathtaking - the word is used with specific intent - the saxophone played by the controlled expulsion of breath, and the soul's longing similar to overworked lungs inhaling oxygen, combine in spiritual aspiration and a final devotional surrender to the grace that transforms moral personality, transfigures character and transmutes human longing into fellowship with the Love Divine.

And so the yearning strong

with which the soul will long,

shall far surpass the power of human telling;

for none can guess its grace,

till we become the place

wherein the Holy Spirit makes his dwelling.

God is closer to sinners than to saints

The Desert Fathers and Mothers can at times be worryingly severe, annoyingly obtuse, and not infrequently clearer in their thinking than any 21st century clued up, theologically literate, culturally aware, postmodern follower of Jesus. Ironically, with their refusal to answer questions with closed answers, and their penchant for the two sentence story, and with their restless refusal to accommodate living for Christ to the urges of the prevailing culture, these representatives of extreme Christian discipleship help us survive the desert of consumer religion and consumerism as religion. And despite their no-nonsense approach, they could be movingly gentle in their understanding of who God is and what God is about in our lives. here's a favourite story.

"God", the elder said, "is closer to sinners than to saints."

"But how can that be?", the eager disciple asked.

And the elder explained. "God in heaven holds each person by a string. When we sin we cut the string. Then God ties it up again, making a knot - bringing the sinner a little closer. Again and again sins cut the string - and with each knot God keeps drawing the sinner closer and closer." (Page 29)

The story is recounted in The Rule of Benedict. Insights for the Ages, by Joan Chittister. If Chittister wrote a commentary on an Argos catalogue or the small print of a credit agreement, I'd almost be tempted to read it. She is a Benedictine sister whose writing on feminist spirituality, issues of social justice, and the complexity of living with and for others, is fresh, sensible and honest about how tough it is just to keep going as a Christian.

For years I have returned periodically, to the Rule of Benedict, and the core values of Benedictine Spirituality - prayer, study, work, hospitality, community, stability, and an immensely impressive and humane balance between the life of the mind (study), of the heart (prayer and community), and of the body (physical work or exercise). The people who have helped me understand how a monastic rule which shaped western civilisation can still decisively shape the life of obedience to Christ today are Chittister, Esther de Waal, Kathleen Norris, Maria Boulding, Columba Stewart and Thomas Merton. I'm currently meandering in an orderly way through Chittister for the severalth time.

I'm beginning to work at what might become a paper on Benedict and the Baptist. Might post it if it works...meantime here's a brief comment from Chittister that is now written in my journal:

Clearly, living life well is the nature of repentance. To begin to see life as life should be and to live it that way ourselves is to enable creation to go on creating us. (page 28)