Except the Lord build the
house, their labour is but lost that build it. (Psalm 127: 1)
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Disorder
June,
367 A.D. - the Egyptian desert
In the
early afternoons it was the custom of Br. Paphnutius and the other
brethren with whom he lived in close proximity to take a brief siesta
in order to strengthen themselves for their afternoon work (and to
avoid the hottest part of the day during the long desert summers!).
One day, as he was just lying down on the floor (surely you weren't
expecting a cot, bed, or other comfort), his head hitting the reed
mat, he heard a loud "CRASH" followed by some language he
hadn't heard or uttered in many a long year (well before his
conversion in fact).
He got
up to investigate and peered out the entrance to his cave only to
find what he suspected, Br. Barsenuphius of Carthage (whom they had
nicknamed "the loud one" as he was somewhat hard of hearing
and thus spoke in a more voluminous manner than was generally
necessary, not to mention being somewhat cantankerous and unsettled
personality-wise).
Br.
Barsenuphius was building himself a house (out of wood nonetheless -
no damp, dingy cave for him) and thus intended to stay for a while,
invited or not by the local community. He was for many years a
tapestry merchant and thus developed a taste for comforts that had
proven unshakeable upon taking up the monastic life. No one was quite
sure which "Rule" he followed to maintain his monastic
discipline, and no one dared ask him.
As far
as anyone local knew (and had heard!), this was the third location he
had tried to build his house upon and yet was meeting no success for
his efforts. The ground in this area was notorously unstable for
construction purposes. Even if you could complete a decent foundation
it never remained stable and any walls you tried to build were
invariably too crooked to set a roof on. He had been warned by other
brethren in the area, but to no effect. Br. Barsenuphius was nothing
if not stubbornly determined.
Watching
this spectacle take place before him, Paphnutius couldn't help but
admire the man's fortitude and constancy. It was unfortunate how
ill-directed these were in him. It seemed so obvious to anyone
looking at him from the outside what sort of mental disorder and
chaos "the loud one" lived amidst. Could he himself see it?
This
past Sunday during the midnight office, the Gospel lesson was the
Prodigal Son from St. Luke 15. Who could soon forget the pathetic
imagery of the younger son who not only had the audacity to ask his
father for his portion of the inheritance (effectively wishing him a
premature death), but also then to waste it on pleasures for himself?
His older brother wouldn't have dreamed of doing something similar.
He stayed on, toiling away for the estate. While the one grew
penitent in the midst of his vice, the other grew immobile in his
virtue, blinded by his sense of righteousness to the point where he
couldn't even countenance the love and longing of his father for whom
he had shown ostensible loyalty.
"Hmmm..."
thought Paphnutius. "That house may yet be the death of
Barsenuphius, or it may prove to be his salvation should it remain
stubbornly resistant to completion."
The
moral of (this part) of the story: It is not always easy to see
things as they are, for a variety of reasons. We are really too
"close" to ourselves to be able to render impartial
judgement of our own motivations (for good or ill) and as we have
ourselves as our primary frame of reference, those things which annoy
and bother us most in other people are, as likely as not, simply a
reflexion of that which we despise most about ourselves, whether we
see it or not.
Also,
consider those with mental illnesses whose perspective on things is,
by its very nature, skewed from what is common or "normal".
And then...be patient with yourself, be patient with other people,
love God, allow yourself to be loved by Him, and then everything will
become much clearer and easier to deal with.
To be
continued...
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