Vol: 3 Issue: 2
Toba 1725 / Feb 2009
LOVE OF THE WAY WHICH LEADS TO GOD By: H.H. Pope Shenouda Why do I pray? Why do I fast? Why do I seek seclusion? And why do I read? Is it in order to be a man of prayers, or fasting or to be known as a lover of seclusion or a man of knowledge? Do I like to be a worshipper? Is this a lust I have for a certain purpose? Do I want to be exalted or to see myself a great man and the means is to succeed and surpass the others along this way? Am I concerned about myself; what is my position? How can I attain it and when? How can I be spiritually promoted? Do I really love God Himself or the way which leads me to Him? For example, do I love prayers or love God to whom I pray? Sometimes I notice many imperfections in me: When I recite all the psalms required from me, I feel happy not because I was talking with God but because this proves that I am successful in performing my worship duties as a monk!! On the other hand when I fail to recite all the required psalms I feel sorry, not because I did not enjoy talking with God but because I am unsuccessful monk. I feel the same regarding my fasting, my watching and my readings. It is absolutely a personal matter.. it is an evident selfishness which fills me with the desire to be exalted in my own eyes irrespective of my relation with God’! When will the time come when I do not pray even one psalm, yet I feel happy because in spite of this I am abiding in God through other means of worship? Do I pray to feel the pleasure and enjoyment of talking with You and to feel the happiness of being in Your presence? Or do I pray so that I may acquire a virtue by which I attain eternal life? Perhaps I do pray to talk with You and ask You to give me that life? Is the prayer-from my own point of view-an objective or just a means? For example when one interrupts my privacy and
my prayer I rage against him, I lose my inner peace with people. Consequently I feel disturbed within me and lose my peace with God also. This means that the prayer is an objective not a means and in order to attain this objective I must deviate and behave in a wrong way!! Worship is just a way that leads to God‌ but God is the aim... Love is a way, ministry is a way but the aim is one i.e. God. Why then do we lose God in order to keep Him! and the way that leads to Him is in the form of desire! Let us then love the way not because it is desirable-for it is indeed so-but because it leads us to God.. Let us hurry along the way and cross it quickly to arrive to Him. It is perfection to make God Himself our way because He Himself is the way as He said (John. 14:6)
Fr Abd El Masih Spending the 40 Days in Then Monastery
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Love, Liberty and Lies By: Fr Antonios Kaldas “Love God, and do whatever you will” - St Augustine This brief quote from one of the most eloquent Christians in history is a profound description of the liberty of the spirit that has truly known God. Our Lord Jesus Himself described this person’s freedom of spirit poetically when He said: “The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8) A true Christian lives by the law of liberty. I do not believe that genuine Christianity is about living your life inside a cage of rules and regulations. “Thou shalt not…” was the baby sitter of our infancy, charged with protecting and teaching us in our vulnerable spiritual childhood. But now we have grown up, we live thus; “All things are lawful to me, but not all things are helpful” (1 Corinthians 6:12). There is no real disagreement between these two. They both direct us to the same goal, humble obedience to God, albeit by different paths. The main difference is that the first is forced upon us, while the second is our own choice. This liberty means the whole world is mine - there is nothing I need to fear. All doors are open to me, all knowledge is available to me. This marvellous universe God has lovingly created for me is mine to experience and to enjoy. But with liberty comes responsibility, and liberty must be used responsibly if it is to be of benefit and not harm. “All things are lawful to me, BUT not all things are helpful … not all things build up … I will not be made a slave to any” continues St Paul (see 1 Corinthians 6:12 & 10:23). The second part of St Augustine’s words will not work without the first part being in place. Our liberty comes about and may be practiced safely and with benefit because we love God. To those who do not love God, but love the world or themselves above all else, liberty becomes the means of their destruction. Sadly, there has always been a temptation to misuse this beautiful liberty throughout the history of Christianity. From the time of the Apostles, groups developed who squandered this precious gift and fell far from God (e.g. The Nicolaitans in Revelation chapters 2 & 3). Even today, cults develop that pervert the message and joy of Christian freedom. Page:3
And we as individuals commit the same sin when we justify our sins and say, “There’s nothing wrong with that! Who am I hurting?” or “He deserved it!” We also abuse it by allowing ourselves to get into tempting situations that are too hard for us. “I can listen to that violent music all day without being affected by it!” is a clear example of abuse of God’s liberty. I am using it to drag myself away from Him - how sad… May God grant us the wisdom to use this great gift of liberty effectively and safely.
A true brotherly Love Three monks once went to harvest, and were given a big area to reap. But the first day one of them became ill, and went back to his cell. One of the two who were left said to the other, ‘See here, brother, our brother has fallen ill; you work as hard as you can, and I will do what little extra I can, and we’ll trust God that by our sick brother’s prayers we’ll harvest his part of the field as well as finishing our own part.’ So they harvested the whole area which they had been given, and went to receive their pay. Then they called their brother, saying, ‘Come on, brother, and take your money. ‘He said, ‘I haven’t harvested, so I’ve earned nothing.’ They said to him, ‘It was through your prayers that we finished the harvest, so come and take your pay.’ There was a fierce argument between them, the one saying, ‘I won’t take it because I haven’t earned it,’ the others refusing to accept their pay unless he would take his share. So they went off to a famous hermit, prepared to accept his judgement. The brother who had been sick said to him, ‘We three went to earn money by harvesting in a man’s field. When we got there, I fell ill on the first day and went back to my cell, and I could not work a single day with them. Now they are forcing me, saying, “Come, brother, take your pay for work you have not done.”‘ But the other two said: ‘The truth is this. When we arrived at the field, we were given a big area to harvest. If there had been three of us, we might with the greatest difficulty have just finished the work. But by the prayers of our brother, the pair of us harvested the field more quickly than three of us would have done. So we are telling him to come and take his pay but he will not. ‘The hermit marvelled to hear them, and said to one of his monks, ‘Ring the bell in the brothers’ church to gather them here.’ When they had assembled, he said to them, ‘Come here, brothers, and hear today a just judgement.’ The hermit told them the whole story, and decided that the brother should receive his pay, and do with it whatever he liked. But the brother went away grieved, weeping like a man who has been condemned.
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Love as Tenderness By: Douglas Burton-Christie It is surprising in some ways, given how harsh life in the desert could be, that the final word in desert spirituality is tenderness. The long and hard effort of the monks to realize within themselves the meaning of the commandment to love resulted in a certain tenderness, even sweetness in their behavior and demeanor. The number of stories preserved by the monks referring to tiny, seemingly insignificant acts of kindness and tenderness is quite revealing. Such acts of tenderness toward others were preserved because the monks were convinced that it was here above all that one could see the fruit of the long years spent struggling in the desert. Such gestures were treasured as much as more heroic deeds of love, for they showed the elders to be bearers of the mercy, kindness, and tenderness of God. The spontaneity of such acts, the freedom with which love was given revealed the possibility of an existence transformed by love. A practical question over which the monks often struggled was how to balance the requirements of their ascetic rule and the requirements of love. Should one, in the event of having visitors, keep the rule-involving solitude, silence, fasting or break it for the sake of the higher law of charity and hospitality’ In spite of the seriousness with which the monks took their ascetical regime, it is apparent that the commandment had a greater weight in these circumstances. The willingness to override the lesser imperatives of human commandments, personal customs, or local rules to provide refreshment of both a material and a spiritual kind for those in need was one expression of the realization of the commandment to love among those in the desert. One story tells how during a period of fasting at Scetis some visitors came to see Abba Moses and he cooked some food for them. Seeing the smoke rising from his cell, some of the brothers said to the ministers, “Look. Moses has broken the commandment and has cooked something in his cell.” The ministers agreed that when Moses came to join them for the Saturday synaxis they would speak to him about what he had done. However, when the time came, the ministers, who knew of Abba Moses’ “magnificent way of life,” chose not to condemn him for what he had done, but to praise him instead. They declared, “O Abba Moses, you broke the commandment of men, and kept the commandment of God. One of the interesting things about this story is how the ministers came to the conclusion about the character of Moses’ behavior. It was not simply on the merits of the present case that they knew that Moses had broken a lesser commandment in order to keep a higher one. Rather, because they knew of his magnificent way of life, they recognized in his behavior the sure Page:5
signs of an act motivated by love. We see a similar motivation at work in two other stories. In the first, two brothers came to see an old man whose custom it was “not to eat every day.” When [the elder] saw the brothers, “he rejoiced, and said, `Fasting brings its reward, but he who eats again through charity, fulfills two commandments, for he gives up his own will and he fulfills the commandment.’ And he refreshed the brothers.”’ We see here another example of the monks’ willingness to suspend mere customs whether personal or local in any situation which called for an expression of generosity or love. “Eating again through charity,” while clearly compromising the elder’s strict ascetical regime, became a means of fulfilling the commandment. Another story tells of a brother who went to see an anchorite, apparently causing the old man to break his fast in order to tend to the needs of the brother. As he was leaving the brother asked forgiveness from the old man “for having taken you away from your rule.” But the anchorite showed himself to be utterly unconcerned with this perceived breach of his ascetical regime and told the brother, “My rule is to refresh you and send you away in peace.” Misplaced emphasis on ascetical rigor was not restricted to the issue of fasting but also manifested itself in other ways. One of the signs of this tenderness was a rejection of this rigor. For instance, some rather stem brothers once asked Abba Poemen, “When we see brothers who are dozing at the synaxis, shall we rouse them so that they will be watchful?” He responded: “For my part, when I see a brother who is dozing, I put his head on my knees and let him rest.” Similarly, Abba Arsenius once pretended to have fallen asleep during the vigil so that his companions who had fallen asleep would not feel foolish or ashamed. Such tenderness was extended especially to those who were in pain or trouble of any kind. On one occasion, when some brothers were traveling to Scetis, the guide who was leading them there became confused and lost his way. In order not to embarrass him, John Colobos pretended to be ill so they could stay there until dawn. The tenderness of the desert fathers could also express itself in spontaneous and extravagant gestures of love. This can be seen in a story concerning the reconciliation between Abba Motius and a brother with whom he had had a falling out. We are told that the brother, under the instigation of the devil, had “opposed him and persecuted him,” causing Motius to withdraw and live as a recluse. Sometime later the same brother was part of a group of monks which came to visit Abba Motius. “As soon as Motius heard the name of the brother who had distressed him, in his joy the old man took a hatchet, battered down the door and came running out to where the brother was. He went to him . . . and made a prostration to him and embraced him.” ‘O’ What is striking about this episode is the immediacy and urgency with which Motius responded to the voice of his beloved friend. There was not a moment’s hesitation when he heard that the young man was near, nor could he tolerate another moment without being reconciled with his friend. Love was often expressed in such concrete and intimate terms in the desert. Page:6
In addition, there are numerous stories of brothers looking after those who are ill and showing them great acts of kindness. One time a brother came upon an old man living in a distant desert, who had become ill and was unable to care for himself. The brother “looked after him, washed him, cooked some of the provisions he had brought, and offered them to him to eat.” In another case, a brother served a sick elder at great personal cost to himself, tending his open sores, and looking after all his needs. Many times he was tempted to flee, but he stayed, “suffered and went on serving the old man, and seeing the brother’s labor, God healed the old man” One time a brother heard of an old man who was ill and who was longing for some fresh bread. The brother gathered some loaves of dry bread, ran a great distance to a town where he could get fresh bread and brought them back for the old man while they were still warm.” Other times love extended into the domain of the work place and involved placing one’s own interests behind those of the others. Three brothers were harvesting together when one fell ill and could not continue working. The other two brothers decided that with increased effort they could do the extra work for the sick brother. They did so, collected the wages for the three of them, and paid the sick brother his share. In another instance, a brother heard one of his companions telling how he had no handles to put on his baskets and that he was concerned because market day was approaching. So he gave the other one his own handles and “caused his brother’s work to succeed by neglecting his own.” Such seemingly insignificant acts of kindness fill the Savings. Although they make for less dramatic reading than the recitation of great ascetical works, the frequency with which they are recounted serves as an indication of the significance attached to them by the desert fathers. For those who sought to understand how to proceed in the way of holiness in the desert, the innumerable small words, gestures. and acts of the holy ones were precious reminders of the possibilities that lay before them. Nor should the significance of these gestures be underestimated.
Two Brothers try to Quarrel Two hermits lived together for many years without a quarrel. One said to the other, ‘Let’s have a quarrel with each other, as other men do.’ The other answered, ‘I don’t know how a quarrel happens.’ The first said, ‘Look here, I put a brick between us, and I say, “That’s mine.” Then you say, “No, it’s mine.” That is how you begin a quarrel.’ So they put a brick between them, and one of them said, ‘That’s mine.’ The other said, ‘No; it’s mine.’ He answered, ‘Yes, it’s yours. Take it away.’ They were unable to argue with each other. Page:7
Quesions & Answeres Q: If it happens that I show longsuffering in some matter, my thought becomes high-minded; how should I be thinking about this? A: When you happen to do something good, you should know that this is a gift of God, given to you by God’s goodness; for God has mercy on all. But pay heed to yourself, lest in your weakness you lose the mercy revealed in you by Him, which is extended to all sinners also. That which is given you by the Lord for good, do not lose in evil; and this gift is lost when you praise yourself as one who is longsuffering and forget God, your Benefactor. Besides this, you draw also judgment upon yourself as soon as you presume to ascribe to yourself that for which you should send up thanksgiving to God the Lover of mankind. The Apostle says: What do you have that you have not received? And if you have received it, why do you boast as if you had not received it? (1 Cor. 4:7). To the thought that praises you for anything, say: “Those who travel on the sea, even during time of a calm do not forget that they are still on the deep, but they always expect storms, dangers, and drowning; and the short time of calm that happens to come brings them no full benefit, because they consider themselves out of danger only when they come to harbor. And it has also happened with many that their ship has drowned them at the very entrance to the harbor. So also a sinner, while he remains in this world, should be always afraid of drowning.” And so never be deceived into believing the thought that praises you for a good deed. Everything good is of God, and because of our negligence we cannot guarantee ourselves that it will remain with us. And how, after this, can we presume to be high-minded?
Douglas Burton-Christie, “The Word in the Desert”, Oxford The desert fathers and mothers of fourth century Egypt created a spirituality of remarkable depth and enduring power from their reading and interpreta¬tion of Scripture. This book tells the story of early monastic spirituality in light of the hermeneutic that shaped it and within the context of the ascetical world of late antiquity. Page:8