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.

The Guest House

“This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.”

Nothing Left of Me

“In the early morning hour,
just before dawn, lover and beloved wake
and take a drink of water.

She asks, ‘Do you love me or yourself more?
Really, tell the absolute truth.’

He says, ‘There’s nothing left of me.
I’m like a ruby held up to the sunrise.
Is it still a stone, or a world
made of redness? It has no resistance
to sunlight.’

This is how Hallaj said, I am God,
and told the truth!

The ruby and the sunrise are one.
Be courageous and discipline yourself.

Completely become hearing and ear,
and wear this sun-ruby as an earring.

Work. Keep digging your well.
Don’t think about getting off from work.
Water is there somewhere.

Submit to a daily practice.
Your loyalty to that
is a ring on the door.

Keep knocking, and the joy inside
will eventually open a window
and look out to see who’s there.”

Love

“The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.”

Rumi was a mystic and poet who wrote of the love of God and also of the mystical bond that can happen between two people. He married twice (after his first wife passed) and also wrote about his deep experience of friendship. He learned to see God in all things, and in all people. And yet there were those to which he had an unspoken deeper bond.

Is love and commitment to another part of some mystics’ quest?

I think, if it is, you just know. Maybe you were in each other all along.

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

A Short Description of Apophatic Practice, Sometimes Termed "Contemplation," by St. John of the Cross

“When individuals have finished purifying and voiding themselves of all forms and apprehensible images, they will abide in this pure and simple light and be perfectly transformed in it.”

– St. John of the Cross, The Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book 2 15:4

Apophthegmata Patrum | Bessarion: On Not Comparing

“A brother who shared a lodging with other brothers asked Abba Bessarion, ‘What should I do?’ The old man replied, ‘Keep silence and do not compare yourself with others.’”

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 | Asceticism as a Vow to Seek God

By entering the desert, the early monastics essentially took a vow to reject worldly comfort in order to seek God. To indulge in any of these comforts would be to “go back” and reject their vow. I believe this is a primary reason why there is so much emphasis placed on rejecting the “comforts of the flesh” in the writings of the Desert Fathers.

Apophthegmata Patrum | Andrew: These Things Are Appropriate For A Monk

“Abba Andrew said, ‘These three things are appropriate for a monk: exile, poverty, and endurance in silence.’”

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

Hugh Jackman | TM and Dedicating Actions to the Service of the Absolute

Hugh Jackman was recently on the Tim Ferris Show. He talked about his experience of practicing TM as well as the concept of dedicating his actions “to the service of the Absolute.”

Retreats

I recently went on a 48 hour silent retreat. This Catholic facility provides unstructured retreats, simply giving you a hermitage (a heated one bedroom cabin in the woods with a chair, a bed, a basket of bread, and some fruit) and a chance to be silent.

My experience on these types of retreats is that I tend to get “clear” on things I need to get clear on. Regardless of how one interprets it, in silence and solitude there is often a conscious experience of what many describe as a deeper, more authoritative, or clarifying voice. Maybe that’s the voice of God; maybe it is your own deepest self. Maybe it’s “the part of me that is in tune with The Ultimate.” I don’t know. But it heals and it directs. At least that has been my experience when I go off to be alone.

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.”

St. Teresa of Avila | Interior Castle: Locutions

The term “locution” is typically used to describe supposed “messages from God” experienced through prayer. Monastics from the Catholic tradition interpret their spiritual experience theistically, thus “messages from God” are seen to be at least in the realm of possibility. This type of spiritual experience seems to me to be similar to Quaker Inner Listening. The language surrounding this type of experience is often nuanced, and many Quakers, for instance, are hesitant to speak of a “voice from God,” but may talk about a deeper voice or leading. This can be interpreted as coming from the depths of the individual, from the Divine, or in a host of other ways. Regardless, the experience of a leading or deeper/more authoritative voice in one’s conscious experience is a common part of the spiritual journey for those from theistic faiths. Personally, I have had similar experiences to what St. Teresa describes here during my practice of Centering Prayer. I don’t always know how I myself interpret these things.

In this passage, Teresa speaks about ways to determine if these locutions are authentic or not.

“There is another way in which God awakens the soul, and which, although in some respects it seems a greater favour than others, may also be more perilous. For this reason I will spend a short time describing it. This awakening of the soul is effected by means of locutions, which are of many kinds. Some of them seem to come from without; others from the innermost depths of the soul; others from its higher part; while others, again, are so completely outside the soul that they can be heard with our ears, and seem to be uttered by a human voice…

To return, then, to our first point: whether they come from within, from above or from without, has nothing to do with their coming from God. The surest signs that one can have of their coming are, in my opinion, as follows. The first and truest sign is the sense of power and authority which they bear with them. I will explain myself further. A soul is experiencing all the interior disturbances and tribulations which have been described, and all the aridity and darkness of the understanding. A single word of this kind – just a “Be not troubled” – is sufficient to calm it. No other word need be spoken; a great light comes to it; and all its trouble is lifted from it although it had been thinking that, if the whole world, and all the learned men in the world, were to combine to give it reasons for not being troubled, they could not relieve it from distress, however hard they might strive to do so…

The second sign is that a great tranquillity dwells in the soul, which becomes peacefully and devoutly recollected, and ready to sing praises to God. Oh, Lord, if there is such power in a word sent by one of Thy messengers what power wilt Thou not leave in the soul that is bound to Thee, as art Thou to it, by love.

The third sign is that these words do not vanish from the memory for a very long time: some indeed never vanish at all.”

The first of these signs – the authoritative nature of the locution – stands out to me. The word or phrase experienced seems to have the power in itself to effect change in the individual who experiences it, even if they have not been able to effect the change in themselves through logical reasoning or other methods. Teresa goes on to discuss locutions which are not authentic.

Different monastics place differing amounts of importance on these types of phenomena.