Brother Paphnutius - an ongoing parable (Part I)

"Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." (John 14: 1-3)

Wandering around and needless worry

365 A.D. - somewhere in the Egyptian desert

Brother Paphnutius has been a monk for over 40 years now. People assumed that he had it all together, knew what he was talking about (at least on those few occasions he actually spoke, which accounts for why this narrative is mostly third person) and felt settled in to his way of life. Perhaps not...

At the age of twenty, after he had finished his education and renouncing a promising career in government service, he decided to become a monk. So he found a community willing to take him in and teach him, packed up his possessions (just the bare essentials: a psalter, some clothing, french press and coffee grinder – after all, we're talking about some early morning prayer and the religious life is designed to be difficult, not impossible!) and off he went.

Everything seemed fine, just what he had expected. But for some reason, the abbot grew quite displeased at Br. Paphnutius. He would not say why, just some general platitudes about not engaging the way of life as it was lead there. At this time the still inexperienced novice monk was unaware that not everyone is a square peg and that not every situation is a square hole and, most importantly, that this is actually a good thing. The abbot of that particular community just couldn't get past trying to squeeze everyone into exactly the same shape. So Paphnutius, blaming himself, decided to leave.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, and, unfortunately, didn't bother to seek counsel from anyone but himself. (Editorial note: here is a dangerous situation, one where it becomes tempting to fall into the trap of always asking 'what if...' What if I go here instead? What if my situation improves somewhere else? Living with other people? Doing a different job? I seem to remember hearing something about greener grass and the other side, but I digress...)

"For God is not a God of confusion but of peace." (1 Cor. 14:33)

Some years had passed after that experience and Brother Paphnutius had run the gamet of human experience, even finding himself on the cusp of getting married. And through these experiences, he was gradually weaned off of asking himself the wrong questions: where ought I to be (as if there were only one answer) and what ought I to be doing (as if it were only one thing)? Rather, he learned to be like the Prophet Isaiah, saying instead: "Here am I! Send me."

"Not all those who wander are lost" (J.R.R. Tolkien)

The moral of (this part of) the story: We worry so much about being in the right place, knowing the right people, doing the right things, having everything planned out to the last perfected detail. There is an almost pathological fear that can pervade our whole existence, as if we were walking on the narrowest tightrope and one false move will bring instant destruction.

Br. Paphnutius came to see clearly (well, he will eventually) that it was okay that what he had originally planned didn't work out the way that he expected it to. He needed to experience this and then go elsewhere to see it as such, a lesson he might never have uncovered had he not trusted enough to deviate from his original course.

So many great things can come when we least expect them. Certainly it is right to make plans, follow through on things and use our God-given intellect to the best of our ability. But...life is not always (nor do I believe it was ever intended to be) quite so cut and dry. We have to adapt, be flexible, not get so attached to what we think we want...in a word, we have to accept our humanity and live it out as it is.

In the opening quote from St. John, Jesus tells us that we can trust Him and He indeed has prepared a place for us. And that is a comforting thought, dispelling all confusion and allowing us to live our lives in a trustful manner.

To be continued...

Revelation 21: 5a

"And he who sat upon the throne said, 'Behold, I make all things new'."

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How often nowadays are we told of the virtues of something being new, fresh or contemporary in contrast with former things as old, traditional or stale? This is not to say that newness is bad, unless perhaps it is the only quality considered worthy of (serious) discussion.

And yet, newness is not really something that is naturally attractive. The earthly ministry of Jesus was something very new in a lot of ways. And yet, because of the all-encompassing demand of Jesus that those who believe in Him are to take up their cross and follow Him (remembering all the places He has been), it took time, patience, miracles and grace to cement the twelve apostles into their new post-Pentecost identity as Christians.

Change is hard. Habits that are formed quickly can take a long time to be broken. Today while I was speaking with my spiritual father during the course of my regular confession, I mentioned something that is an habitual struggle for me (being too self-absorbed, not always being present enough to those around me). As part of his counsel, he advised me to consider the separation of the sheep and the goats from St. Matthew's Gospel (ch. 25: 31-46), paying particular attention (unlike the condemned in this narrative) to 'the least of these'. He then challenged me to think of where they show up in my own life and to reflect on that in the context of the Lord's Prayer, particularly "Thy will be done".

That is a petition that Christian people are wont to make on a regular basis. But do we really mean it? Do we see the full import of what we are asking for? It is indeed a petition for newness, for the sloughing off of the old man and the putting on of the new. (cf. Colossians 3:9-10)

Like so much else in this post-modern life of ours, there is the danger of seeing this as a one-time, binary process (going from being switched off to switched on) that isn't repeated. But that is not the case.

Life is a continual conversion, and it does not simply take place in the head or the heart (a contemporary form of gnosticism), but involves the whole of the human person. And it happens every day. It is axiomatic of the spiritual life that we are either progressing or regressing, there is no standing still. It is this forward movement that the desert fathers and those who follow in their tradition are seeking through their spiritual practices.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning". (Lam. 3: 22-23a)

There they are, just waiting for you to receive. But no one is forcing your hand, that is the way of love. And they are new, which can be both a great relief (I'm not too late, I didn't miss out on anything) and a bit frightening (I need to be honest with myself that in the past I have fallen short and am in great need). But there they are nonetheless.

Peace.