Author: a fool

All alone with Jesus

… the agony aunts of their day

A few quotes from The Friendly Recluse: Medieval hermits were the agony aunts of their day.

Hermits, anchorites and anchoresses (men or women who lived enclosed in a small cell in a church) were holy figures with looser ties to ecclesiastical authorities and more autonomy than those who lived in formal religious communities. … their nature was one of isolation and ‘the solitary combat of the desert’.

While the degree of social contact medieval recluses had differed, there is evidence to suggest that they were the agony aunts of their day, often flying in the face of the recommendations of religious authorities. … The scholar of medieval devotional literature, Michelle M. Sauer, has said that while ‘The anchorite, in theory, was utterly alone in the cell … the reality of this lifestyle was quite different’ and ‘anchoresses were sought out by devout Christians and courted by towns, becoming a visible sign of holiness and protection’

The whole article is interesting – a good introduction to some of the literature. And, the main purpose, a town advertising for hermit/anchorite is a solid idea that many more modern towns should consider.

… asceticism and freedom

I am reading Asceticism – a collection of papers on various topics related to … yes, you guessed it … asceticism.

The opening paper has a quote from The First Circle by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn when the prisoner says to the Minister:

I’ve got nothing, see? Nothing! … You only have power over people so long as you don’t take everything away from them. But when you’ve robbed a man of everything he’s no longer in your power – he’s free again.

I was reflecting on that quote in the context of the oft-quoted Albert Camus:

The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.

As a community (ie the Church) we often speak of not being ruled by the world. But in reality what does that mean for the individual? There is a political aspect to the solitary life: a life not ruled (in theory!) by the standards of the world. For me, and I have thought about this a lot in the last month, the solitary life is a place and that place is a person. I refuse to be objectified! I refuse to be put in a box and then told, “see you are not acting right (ie according to the box which you have been put into)”. For many years I have looked for the “right box” – the right objective truth that defines me.

The only freedom is in Nothing (ie a NOthing, a Person!)

Anyway …

… traditional devotions

I was reading about the traditional devotional life of anchorites in Medival England. These anchorites followed the fashion of the day, which was dominated by affective piety focusing on the humanity of Jesus. So the major focus was the Passion of Jesus.

Besides the 15 Oes, there were prayers to “The Five Wounds of Christ”, “The Seven Wounds of Mary”, or the “Seven Prayers of St Gregory” centring on the Passion of Jesus. There were also liturgical feasts dedicated to the Prayer in the Garden, the Five Wounds of Jesus, the Winding Sheet (burial shroud), and the Precious Blood.

As an aside, The Gregory Prayer Book has a number of these prayers and devotions. An interesting and useful aid to my prayers. There is also a Book of Hours available that gives some insight into English devotional life.

I wonder what happened to all these devotions?

… tears

More important than baptism is the spring of tears that comes after baptism, although it may be somewhat bold to state this. Because baptism is the cleansing from evils that were present in us beforehand, but the sins which we commit after baptism are cleansed by tears. Although baptism is performed at infancy, all of us have polluted it, and so we need to purify it anew with tears. If, in His love for humanity, God had not granted us tears, few there would be, and difficult to discover, those who would be in a condition of grace.

The Ladder of Divine Ascent

… zombie apocalypse

Would you survive a zombie apocalypse? (Without discussing the likelihood of such an event or the possibility of the walking dead.)

Maybe I would struggle! I have no practical skills. So I think I would be some zombie’s lunch before I could starve. Maybe I could lock the doors and just live as I do now? But I would still starve. The library would come in handy for heating. But a complete collection of Kierkegaard’s works will be of little practical help. The person who has read the complete collection even less. I would still starve. My phone would quickly become a paperweight and I would struggle without coffee. Maybe I could survive a little but not long? I would most certainly not thrive in such a context. I am not a fighter, nor a leader, nor a motivator of people. I would starve.

If this zombie apocalypse would happen, what would remain of this life? Money? Paper money may serve another purpose. Yet the numbers on a computer somewhere would be absolutely useless. No more internet so no way to pay with my phone. Time? The sun would still rise but after all the batteries have run out, would there still be an 11:00 am meeting? Would there still be a church? Would there be theological debates about the nature of the current issue?

So, with this possible scenario before me, what really matters now? What is simply for this time and place (contingent) and what would be useful in a zombie apocalypse? To what extent is my life now defined by contingent things and ideas? As a follower of Jesus, there is a time coming when “heaven and earth” will pass away and will be no more. Then what will remain? So maybe the question is not so much about zombies?

… conflict

When I started living alone, in my current context, I remember thinking, “Now I can relax!”. Solitude, at first, can seem like an escape. “Peace is to be alone”, at least for some people. Freedom to move and be as you desire without outside obligations.

Yet what I have discovered is the opposite. Solitude is conflict. There is nothing here to distract me from me. My memories are what I bring into the cell. And, for me, these memories often mean pain and hurt. There is nothing to distract, nothing to darken the memories, nothing to ease the pain.

What do I do to forget? Do I want to forget or is my purgatory these memories? I have found only one prayer, “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me”. And to forget? Remember Jesus on the cross! Enter into the mystery of the Incarnation by answering (or attempting to) the question, “Do you turn to Jesus?”.

Maybe in this, I am like everyone else?

… rebels with a desire

I am reading several books by Sister Benedicta Ward SLG. Her order, the Sisters of the Love of God, is the closest to the ideals of the Desert Christians within Anglicanism. In one of her books (well, actually the introduction), she makes the following point:

They were people who did without: not much sleep, no baths, poor food, little company, ragged clothes, hard work, no leisure, absolutely no sex, and even, in some places, no church either—a dramatic contrast of immediate interest to those who lived out the Gospel differently.

The Desert Of The Heart: Daily Readings with the Desert Fathers

The Desert Christians did without the church! There is, I think, a parallel between the Abraham of Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling – a person before religion – and the Christians of the desert – individuals before the institution. These desert dwellers lived (more or less) without the Eucharist – they had a eucharistic life rather than living the Eucharist. Something that strikes me as outside of the experience of modern-day monasticism.

The second point that Ward makes is:

Their name itself, anchorite, means rule-breaker, the one who does not fulfil his public duties.

The Desert Of The Heart: Daily Readings with the Desert Fathers.

A solitary is someone who steps outside the common norm, who does not live like everyone else, and who displays desires that are considered odd. Maybe it is about living outside of the norms in a society and culture where Jesus no longer has a place.

Food for thought. Anyway ….

… meaning?

I am reading a book that considers the hermeneutic of the Desert Christians. The author muses on the movement from “text to meaning”. I wonder if this movement is not another example of the Ugly Ditch:

That, then, is the ugly, broad ditch which I cannot get across, however earnestly I have tried to make the leap. If anyone can help me over it, let him do it, I beg him, I adjure him. He will deserve a divine reward from me.

G. E. Lessing

Also, I have been thinking about the meaning that we (I?) assign to contingent “truth”?! In the end (so to say), the abstract wins over the individual and conformity is the only virtue (moral) left.

Anyway …