What would happen if the great giants of early monasticism
such as St Anthony, Arsenius and Moses the Black, happened to be living amongst
us now? What if they turned their back
on the Egyptian wilderness and came to live in a very different kind of desert
-- the urban wilderness of inner London?
These might seem like strange questions but they have intrigued me for
many years, ever since reading Thomas Merton's Wisdom of the Desert whilst living in a tower block in south
London. For although the rocks and sands
of the Egyptian desert are a very different world from the concrete and traffic
of modern London there has always seemed to me a curious connection between the
two places. I sat with this connection for many years until I had the opportunity
to take a long retreat in Wales. In
preparation for this I read William Harmless' account of the early desert
fathers, Desert Christians, and
something began to stir in me. Then
during the retreat I slowly read Stelios Ramfos’ Like a Pelican
in the Wilderness and gradually these strange old men of the desert began
to come into clearer focus. They were no
longer so strange, their way of life no longer bizarre and humorous, but rather
they appeared to achieve a unique engagement with what it means to be
human. It seemed to me that rather than
rejecting human life for some kind of abstract, spiritualised existence they,
in fact, were exploring the limits of what it means to be human -- no longer
content with a mediocre human life enslaved to mean appetites and the winds of
fate, they managed to grasp the mystery of life with both hands and live it to
the full. My old question then began to
come into clearer focus -- if these old men were living now, here in the midst
of the Inner London communities I have inhabited for 20 years, how would they
live, what would they do and what would be the focus of their attention? I found myself returning to Thomas Merton's translations of
the sayings and wondering if I could rework them into a contemporary idiom. From reading William Harmless it was clear to
me that there was something about the desert fathers and their ascetic life
which their contemporaries found very attractive. This made me think about what would make
'urban' fathers attractive to our generation.
It struck me that a group of people who took seriously the ecological
crisis and lived in a way which made peace with the earth rather than exploited
it, could have a similar impact in our modern age. Yet, as with the original desert fathers, this
asceticism would not be a remote and inhuman discipline but it would always
live under the greater law of love. This
gave me the key to start to reinterpret the desert fathers for the contemporary
city. Quickly, other ideas began to fall into place. The body was obviously central to the
spirituality of the desert fathers, it struck me that their true path was not
about rejecting the body in favour of the 'spirit' but rather developing an
embodied spirituality which made the body part of the spiritual quest. This resonated strongly with my own interests
as a person with a disabling chronic illness and the contemporary search for
embodied spirituality. Also, although there
were some desert mothers such as Syncletica, the
urban fathers would need to be equally women and men, and with a women taking a
significant leading role. Similarly,
talk of ‘salvation’ seems strange and arcane in the contemporary world so the
urban fathers and mothers would talk about happiness, even while investing it
with a meaning far deeper than it is normally allowed. And rather than losing themselves in the
remote desert -- for modern transport and technology means that few places are
now genuinely remote. The modern seekers would view with suspicion the
telecommunications technology and media world which locks us into a lifestyle
where the urgent overwhelms the important. Finally I began to think about what most fundamentally
connect the desert fathers to our urban age, and wondered if it was the issue
of Christendom. The desert fathers lived,
in some ways, as a reaction to the first stirrings of Christendom, in which the
way of Jesus began to be transformed into a state ideology. This is why the desert fathers so valued
their independence and can appear at times to be proto-anarchists. Here is an immediate connection to our modern
age where Christendom is breaking down and Christianity is no longer taken for
granted as the foundation of the western state.
Maybe the 'urban fathers' are an exercise in imagining a post Christendom
spirituality. Below I offer a few selections of my reworked sayings of the
desert fathers Holy Pandit asked Holy Tony "How can I live a happy
life?" The holy man replied simply.
"Don't think you can always get it right.
Don't worry about a thing once it has been done. Keep your tongue under control and don't
believe that your needs are the same as your greed". A
seeker was talking to Holy Isao who was one of the most respected holy men in
East London and he asked him 'Why do you seem to find it so easy to resist
temptation'. The holy man replied 'Since
I began seeking God I have concentrated on not allowing my anger to spew out
and cover other people with my vomit '. Holy
Hyacinth said "It is healthier to eat deep-fried Mars bars and binge drink
than gobble up your friend with criticism and snide remarks". A
brother seeker who was looking to live a celibate life came early to a meeting
at a church hall and stumbled on a group of young sisters having an aerobics
class in leotards and lycra. He was flustered and embarrassed and clumsily
fled from the hall. Later when the holy
woman who was supervising the sisters met the brother she said to him "If
you truly had the calling for a celibate life you would have been able to wait
in the hall without embarrassment". Holy Olu had a car. He
went to holy McKenzie to talk to him about it "I have a small car and I
find it useful for taking people to hospital and other holy men borrow it to
make visits and help people in various ways.
But I am uncomfortable with owning it -- what should I do?" The holy man thought about it and then said
to him "How you use your car is good but it is better to live the simple
life and not be burdened with possessions". So Olu went and
sold the car and gave the money to an environmental project. Holy Priya spent 14 years in Dagenham praying to God every day
to learn how to manage her anger A
holy man once said "There are two reasons why we do not achieve what we
want to achieve. Firstly we push
ourselves too hard and go beyond our limits.
Secondly we want instant results rather than patiently continuing with
the work we have begun. Many people wish
to live good lives which are healthy and environmentally friendly but most wish
to achieve this without regular sustained effort." A
parliamentary commission on faith and social cohesion decided to come and visit
Holy Mohindra and so went off to Stepney to see him
because they had heard what an important influence he was in the
community. But someone warned the holy
man about this so he sneaked away to his local pub for a quiet drink but on the
way he ran into the commissioners and they asked him where Holy Mohindra' flat was.
He told them "What do you want with him? He is an extremist and a fanatic". The commissioners carried on and came to a
community house run by some seekers inspired by holy Mohindra. They said to the people there "We heard
about holy Mohindra and wanted to come and talk to
him but we just ran into someone who told us that he was an extremist and a fanatic". The people at the community house were
horrified at who could have described holy Mohindra
like this. The commissioners gave them a
description of the person and they immediately recognised him as Mohindra "O that was holy Mohindra
that you spoke to, he did not want to speak to you, he is not interested in
recognition, so he described himself as a fanatic". Somewhat perplexed but, perhaps, a little
wiser the commissioners returned to Westminster. A
story was told about holy John the small.
One day he announced to his wife "I want to totally commit my life
to God. I want to live like the angels
-- constantly praising God, without getting caught up in the trivia which is
always getting in the way of our prayer".
So he left everything and went to live on the streets. But after a week he returned to his
wife. When he pressed the intercom his
wife asked "Who is it?" He replied "It's John". But his wife replied "It can't be John
he has become an angel". John
carried on but his wife did not let him in, keeping him waiting for some
time. Eventually she opened the door for
him and said "If you are a man, you are going to have to start doing
trivial work again like ordinary people, but if you are an angel why are you so
keen to come back to this home of bricks and mortar?" John realised he had been a fool and said
"Forgive me, my darling, I deceived myself and made a bad mistake". The
Mother came on a group of seekers arguing about what kind of people were closer
to God -- monks and nuns, the oppressed or environmental activists. She interrupted them and said "Imagine
three seekers living together. One
concentrates on silent prayer, another has a chronic illness but remains
thankful and the third looks after the other two quietly and without complaining. There is no difference between these three
for they are all doing the same work". There
was a seeker who in a humble manner encouraged the other seekers when Holy Tony
was visiting. But when Tony spent some
time with him on his own he challenged him over a small matter and found him
very defensive. Holy Tony said to him
"You are like a house with an elaborate security system but you go out and
leave a window wide open so that burglars can come and go freely". One
of the holy men used to say "When we began this adventure of seeking a
holy life in the wilderness of the city we used to get together and talk in a
way which got right inside me and nourished my whole being -- it felt as if we
were really getting somewhere, recreating something of heaven here on
earth. But now we get together and we
just criticise everything, no longer recreating heaven but inventing our own
little hell." A
seeker visited a holy man who lived a very solitary and obscure life on an
estate in Hackney and stayed with him for a while. He found living with the holy man a very
beneficial experience and stayed much longer than he had expected. When he was leaving he said "Forgive me,
my friend, I have disrupted your way of life". But the solitary replied to him "My way
of life is to offer you hospitality and to see you on your way in a more
peaceful frame of mind". A
seeker asked one of the holy men "Imagine there were two seekers: one
reads widely in all spiritual traditions, only eats organic, fair trade food
and perfects his meditation technique; whilst the other cares for homeless
people. Which one is closer to finding
God?" The holy man replied
"Even if that one who is so scrupulous, never so much as set foot in a Tesco, he would not equal the one who cares for the homeless". A
journalist came to see holy Simone, but she was warned about it so she put on
her pinny, borrowed a cigarette from her neighbour
and began mopping down the stairwell where she lived. When the journalist came asking where the
holy woman lived she replied "There aren't any holy people living here,
darling, we're all sinners". So the
journalist left. Sometime later the
local MP came to visit but a friend warned the holy woman. She went down to the off-licence and bought a
large bottle of cheap cider. Sitting on
her doorstep in some dirty clothes she greeted the MP with a cheerful wave and
invited her to sit down with her and drink the cider. The MP was horrified and made a quick exit
saying "If this is what the holy people are like we are better off without
them". Holy
Tony and some friends had gone to the park and were sitting under a tree
talking when a journalist came along and saw them. So he came up to them and said "I
thought you were holy men why are you here relaxing and enjoying yourselves,
shouldn't you be praying or doing good deeds?" Tony looked up at the journalist and said
"Please lend me your mobile phone" So the journalist did so and Tony
proceeded to phone a friend and have a long conversation with her. The journalist started to get uncomfortable
and Tony said to him "Is there something the matter?" So the journalist said "I'm worried
about my mobile phone, you will run down the battery and I need to use
it". So Tony said to her "It
is the same with us. If we spend all our
time praying and doing good works we will become exhausted and no use to
anyone. Human beings also need time to
recharge their batteries". One
of the holy women was asked by a seeker why she lived such an austere and
simple life and she replied "It is true that we live a simple, austere
life, seeking as the environmentalists say to 'reduce our carbon footprint',
and that we live a very rigorous life without indulgence. We don't do this to be trendy and impress
people but because this is the life to which Jesus has called us. Its true value will only be realised after
our deaths". Holy Miriam said "The person who knows how to be alone
and spends time in quiet contemplation is like an organic tomato matured under
the Italian sun but the person who is never without company and gossip is like
an industrial tomato force-grown in a Dutch greenhouse ". Two seekers came to visit a holy woman who lived a very
simple life and never ate meat. But when
she heard that they were coming she immediately went out and bought a chicken
and cooked a splendid roast dinner saying "Simplicity and vegetarianism
are great but hospitality is better, for then you set aside your own desire and
celebrate your friends". This is the story of Holy McKenzie and how he came to East
London. "From an early age I found
myself drawn to God rather than all the things young people generally get
interested in. I was therefore persuaded
to become ordained and eventually became the Minister of a small suburban
church. But I didn't enjoy it so I gave
up the Ministry, found myself a small flat in south London and became involved
with a group of people seeking God. It
so happened that we worked with a group of young people and one of them, a
young woman of 17, became pregnant and said that I was the father. Everyone became very excited. Her parents insisted that I take
responsibility for the child so I looked to get a better job in order to have
more money to fulfil my responsibilities.
When the day came for her to give birth she had a very difficult labour
and in the midst of it admitted that I was not the father but that she had been
sleeping with her next-door neighbour.
My friends brought me the news and were very happy for me. But I disliked the attention, and now that I
had no more responsibilities decided to leave that place. This is why I ended up here in East
London". A
seeker once wanted to talk to holy Ade of
Finsbury. He wrote him letters, tried to
find his phone number or e-mail address (but he didn't have a phone or
computer) and eventually came to visit him and knocked on his door. But the holy man refused to answer him so,
eventually, disappointed and sad, he left him alone. One of holy Ade's
friends asked him why he refused to speak to him seeing as he was so
disappointed and sad. The holy man
replied "I know that one, he's only interested in words. He's trying to make a name for himself by
writing a book about us". I find this final story disconcerting. It challenges me not to reimagine
the desert fathers by writing about them, but rather to engage in a lived
interpretation which reawakens them in the day-to-day realities of 21st-century
London. Here, indeed, is an agenda for
life. I think I have only half begun.